


Written In The Sand

by Jayster



Series: What Does Not Bend [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, M/M, Modern AU, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2020-10-29 13:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20797277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jayster/pseuds/Jayster
Summary: After Theus Mahariel moves to Denerim, he finds himself interested in the mysterious, sharptongued bookshop owner not far from his new apartment.Alexander Cousland is happy with his rather easygoing life until he meets that cute bartender and an old family friend comes to him for help.Sapphir Tabris struggles with her place in Denerim, feeling like there's something more for her in the world, but she doesn't know how to leave.





	1. Bookshops and Cafes

Theus Mahariel sat uncomfortably on the steps of the apartment complex, tapping his foot nervously on the ground before him. His phone had buzzed about eight times in the past twenty minutes since he’d first decided to sit and decidedly ignore all the messages that were being sent. Most had been from Tamlen, who apparently had nothing better to do than send him links to news sites about the treatment of elves in the cities and updates on where the clan was now and informing Theus it wasn’t too late to come back. Some might be from Merrill, who had been curious more than anything about what the cities were _really _like, and she was asking how he found the food in the human cities compared to what he ate with the Sabrae Clan. Worse might be that Marethari might be asking him to reconsider his decision and come to join them in Kirkwall now instead of later.

His heart ached with being away from his Clan, his family, but he’d made a decision and he was determined to see it through until the end. That determination that had driven him so far was currently lacking at the moment, all but disappearing the moment he’d come to the door the Rosin Complex. He felt like the moment he walked through those doors everything would become real. His decision to leave the Clan, his move to Denerim, everything would hit him all at once. The nine-hour train ride from the Brecilian had been more like a dream than anything else, mostly because he spent nearly the entirety of it sleeping, but stepping into what would be his new home felt as he would officially be shredding the life of the Dalish and accepting whatever it was he was becoming now.

He shuddered at the thought he might be considered a _City Elf_ from now.

He wanted to vomit. His whole entire life he had been part of the Clan, been raised and taught about Elvhenan, about the desecration of most of the elven artifacts that had been found, about the history of his people. A history that was butchered and littered with bloodshed and missing portions thanks to the shemlen long past. His decision felt like he was turning his back on everything he knew and had loved. All to chase a ghost.

Theus let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair, looking down to the small silver key in his palm. The code to enter the building was attached with a small plastic tag, untidy handwriting seemingly scrawled the numbers quickly. His pack was resting at his feet. There was a substantial lack of _things_ he had brought from the Clan. Tamlen had given him his favourite dagger, a beautiful craft by Ilen that Tamlen had paid a small fortune for. Merrill had given him her favourite rug. It smelt like halla and was a little itchy but Theus had used it on the train. Ashalle had given him his mothers necklace made of intricately carved beads of different animals the whole way around.

Besides, in the emails it had said his room and the apartment itself was already fully furnished and that Theus would only need to bring the things that were most important to him. That had initially dumbfounded him because he cared more about the people of his clan than anything else. Tamlen had packed most of his clothes and boots for him, the whole time trying to convince him out of actually leaving. He hadn’t been successful, but he did fold all of Theus’s stuff nicely so he could fit more in his pack.

Living with other people hadn’t exactly been Theus’s first choice. He would have preferred to live by himself, but the only places he’d be able to afford on his own were in the Alienage and he wasn’t very keen on that idea. The same went for the apartments that were on offer for all elven roommates. This apartment caught his eye because it was surprisingly cheap and right near the edging of Market District and Common District. The trade-off was simply he would have the smaller of the rooms and it was described as ‘quaint’. Tamlen had been very helpful in informing Theus that meant it was cramped and smelt like dust. Theus had responded simply by thumping his friend hard in the arm. Now he wished he’d taken Tamlen up on his offer to accompany Theus to Denerim. Not that Theus could have ever asked Tamlen to leave the Clan for his own wishes.

“You a’right, then?” Theus looked up when he heard someone speaking to him. Standing right before him, on the lowest step of the complex, was a dwarf with shockingly white hair cut to her shoulders. There was a tattoo on her right cheek in thick black that looked vaguely like an ‘S’, but with added stripes at the end. Her skin was light brown and had a few dark spots spread over her arms and legs. She was standing with her arms crossed over her chest, the muscles of her biceps pronounced under the thin fabric of her shirt, her light hazel eyes looking him up and down. Theus returned the gesture. She was wearing a pair of black shorts that showed off her defined, thick calves, and hugged at her thighs. A gym bag that swamped her was hung easily on one shoulder, full of _something_ that didn’t look light in the slightest.

“I am fine,” Theus said in response, his voice neutral and with minimal inflection. His foot had stopped tapping against the ground as he watched her carefully. He’d never met a dwarf before and he had no idea if they had the same inclination as shemlen’s to hurt his kind. The few times before this he’d come to face shemlen hadn’t ended well once. And he had the scars to prove it. 

He partly wished that Merrill had come with him. Not that he would have asked and she hadn’t given any inclination on her desire to leave Sabrae. His heart ached a little as he thought of Merrill. He missed her. He missed them all.

“So, you sittin’ there for funsies, then?” the dwarf said, rocking casually to lean on one hip. Somehow the movement seemed threatening. Especially when she narrowed her eyes at him. Theus just stuck his chin out and up, clenching his jaw as he held up the key in his hand. He didn’t know if she’d have any idea what it was but he didn’t think he’d be having to explain his mere presence to someone.

“Just thinking before I go inside. Is that illegal?” Theus said but it came out closer to a snarl. If the dwarf noticed or cared for his tone she didn’t respond to it. Instead, she focused on the key he held. She tilted her head to the side as if in recognition, raising her eyebrows as she looked back to Theus’s face. Her expression softened greatly, the harshness leaving her face and eyes. She looked almost kind.

“Maybe if you were in the Royal District. Just had a few no-gooders tryin’t sneak their way in, is all,” she said before she eased up her stance. She extended a hand towards him, an apparently friendly gesture. “You must be The-us. Ali said you’d be comin’ soon. Thought it was tomorrow, is all. I’m Lira.”

“They-us,” Theus corrected as he accepted her hand. The motion felt odd and clumsy and not what he was used to at all. They both dropped their hands quickly. The email he’d received told him that one of the flatmates in the apartment was a woman by the name of Lira Brosca. There had been no mention about her being a dwarf. Theus decided that this was because it was deemed to not be important in the overall scheme of things. 

“Sorry, get it right next time,” Lira said with a wink, “anyway, atrast vala. You comin’ in, then?”

Theus didn’t have an immediate answer, as the idea of going inside still filled his heart with stuttering dread. Lira scooted past him on the steps and headed towards the large clear doors. With a sigh he leant forward, swallowing down the fear and apprehension rising in his throat, and gripped the handle of his pack. As he stood, he slung it over his shoulder easily. His phone vibrated once more in his pocket and he decided he’d take a look when he was inside. Lira was waiting just inside the door, holding it open for him to follow her. Theus took a deep breath as he stepped into the foyer, feeling like someone had simultaneously punched him in the stomach and lifted a weight from his shoulders. An odd feeling.

“Ma serannas,” he said, then quietly and through gritted teeth, he added, “thank you.” Lira shrugged as she began walking up the rather rickety, ready-to-fall-apart staircase. Theus wondered if he were to put too much pressure on the steps if he would fall straight through them.

“We’re on the third floor. No idea if Ali _actually_ gave you lots’a info. Tell you much?”

“Just the address.”

“Hmph, figures. Bright in some ways, not so much in others, that one. Nice ‘nuff though, ‘specially for an ex-Templar. Copper now though, pretty good one too. Wants to make detective, you know, and that kind’a shit. ‘Make the world better’ or somethin’,” Lira chattered as she began to walk up the stairs. She gestured vaguely as she spoke. Theus had limited information and knowledge about Templars, other than they were mage hunters and worked for the Chantry, but he’d had plenty of confrontations with shemlen cops before. His heart sank a little as he realised he’d be living with one. _That _was definitely not mentioned in any of the shared emails. He wondered how quickly he’d be able to find another apartment.

Lira seemed completely oblivious to whatever he was feeling, which Theus wasn’t entirely surprised by considering how much she was babbling about everything and anything that came to her mind. Half of it was information about different people that lived in the complex, don’t leave a pot plant out or Miss Jenkins will steal it, always get your mail because someone’s been snooping. That kind of thing. By the time they reached the top of the third staircase, Theus hadn’t said a single word and somehow knew the recent history of the complex and apparently everyone that lived there. Lira could shoot words out of her mouth like she would be killed if there was a second gap between the sentences.

Lira dumped her bag onto the ground, rolling the shoulder it had been hanging from, and pulled a keychain from her pocket. There were a few different pictures hanging from the tag but Theus didn’t get a close look before she unlocked the door. She turned the handle roughly, thumping on the wood with her shoulder hard, and opened it wide. She picked her bag up and walked inside, leaving Theus to followed after her.

Tamlen had somehow been right and wrong. The place was quaint and cramped, but not in an overbearing way. Not like Theus had grown to expect it to be anyway. He readjusted how he held his bag, easing a bit of the pressure, as he looked around. The door entered into a living room that could _not _be described as spacious in any way. There was an old, tired, but comfortable looking lounge stretched in front of a decent enough sized television opposite it. Underneath was a small cabinet that had a few gaming consoles on top and a neat collection of DVDs underneath it. A bookshelf was to the right of the television, and a small work area was to the left. That mostly consisted of a half desk with a well-worn desk chair with a small cactus and a glass full of pens.

A small open kitchen was to the right of the entrance, off white cupboards and benchtops which housed a few different kitchen appliances, like the microwave and a blender, as well as a knife block and a glass chopping board. The fridge was pretty big and looked like the newest thing in the room, save for the various photos that were pinned up with different coloured letters. The oven was direct to the left of the fridge and looked like it was about as old as the apartment complex itself.

“Well, it’s not much, but it’s ‘ome,” Lira said rather proudly. Theus was inclined to agree on the first part, not that he had much to do with apartments. He was used to the caravans of the clan and the smell of the forests and the sounds of the road. Here everything sounded thick and heavy, even the air pressed in on him.

“Bathrooms through there, your room’s that one there,” Lira continued as she motioned to different parts of the apartment. The words ‘your room’ felt odd to hear and Theus took a deep breath, nodding again. There was still a part of him that screamed to grab Tamlen’s knife and Merrill’s blanket and run back to the Clan. That there was still time to find them before they crossed the Waking Sea. That there would be no success in a probably pointless search and that he should return to what is familiar. He ignored that feeling, glancing to Lira and managing to pull his lips into a small smile. He probably looked like he grimacing. He certainly felt like he was.

“Ma serannas.”

“Sure thin’. My room’s over there,” she said, pointing to a rather obscured door half-hidden behind the bookshelf. Theus hadn’t noticed it before, too preoccupied with everything else in the apartment. “And Ali’s is on the other side of the bathroom. Sorry to cut this short, but I need to hit the mat. Just knocked off and all that, ya’ know?”

Theus didn’t know if he should tell her that no, he didn’t quite understand everything she was saying, but she didn’t wait for him to answer. She just gave him a small wave as she stalked towards her room, the manner of her walk reminding Theus of the way Tamlen moved when he was hunting. She disappeared behind the door, letting it shut with a nice, resounding thud.

Theus was left alone in the apartment, all too aware of the quietness inside and the sound of cars and the street out the windows. Somehow the place was both too loud and too quiet and overall incredibly overwhelming. He felt lonelier standing inside this foreign place he was meant to call home than he had been sitting outside. With a roll of his shoulder he walked over to the room that Lira had pointed out to him. Hesitantly Theus turned the handle of the door and pushed it open, blinking twice into the shaded room.

The email had been pretty spot on when describing what his room would look like. There was a double bed pressed up against the closest wall, a rather plain-looking cover on the duvet and a pair of pillows at the head. Pushed up against the opposite wall beneath a window was a set of drawers for his clothes. A small standing mirror was on top of the drawers, as well as another cactus, and a small inset of a pole was in a small square section of the wall in the left corner. Theus clicked his tongue, suddenly becoming all too aware of the thick stone walls, feeling like they were beginning to press in on him. He deftly threw his pack onto the bed and shut the door, shutting the room away.

It was still early in the day, early enough that he could worry about packing later. _If _he didn’t decide this was definitely going to be all for naught by the time he returned. He ran a hand through his hair before he turned curtly on his heel. He had his phone in his front right pocket, his key in the front left, and his wallet in his back. Everything he needed at that moment. He walked back to the front door and pulled it open, being careful to pull it shut tight behind it. The wood stuck a little in the frame, so he had to give it a decided tug before it clicked shut.

The stairs were quicker to tackle going down than they were going up following an overly chatty dwarf. When he reached the top of the last set of stairs he came to a stop, setting a petite looking red-haired woman walking up with shopping bags in both hands. Theus was torn between offering her some help, as Ashalle would have told him to do, and the need to get as far away from this confining space as he could manage. The woman looked up to him when she noticed his presence, her pretty blue eyes giving him a once over, and a gentle smile stretched her lips.

“Oh. Hello. Are you Alistair and Lira’s new flatmate?” she asked as she walked up the stairs. She had an accent that Theus hadn’t come across before and for a moment it dumbfounded him with the melody of it. Her pale skin was littered with a splash of freckles over her nose now that was closer to him, light and only noticeable when up close. Theus stepped to the side of the stairs, breathing deeply and fighting the urge to fly down the stairs and out the door. No point being rude, especially when a shemlen was trying to be nice.

“Yes,” Theus said, then his ear twitched before he added, “I’m Theus.”

“A pleasure to meet you Theus. I’m Leliana. I live across the hall,” she said, finally reaching the top of the stairs. Theus nodded, pleased when she didn’t stop and began walking towards the next set of stairs. “I’ll be sure to see you around. Enjoy your day.”

“Ma serannas, dareth shiral,” Theus said. She blinked at him in surprise, then smiled.

“And to you.” Theus waited until she was completely out of sight before he ran down the stairs quickly. The door to the complex was heavier than he would have expected, for how easily Lira had held it open, but he was glad to be back out in the fresh air. He skipped down the steps and breathed in deeply before he looked around him.

Despite his meticulous planning, he’d had trouble managing to secure a job. There was evidently a severe lack of need for hunters, or trap makers, and thus he’d struggled to find something. There hadn’t been much help when Merrill had suggested that he change his name from Mahariel to something that sounded a bit more like it belonged to a shemlen, but that was shut down a quickly as the idea had left Merrill’s tongue. Theus was _never _going to drop his name just to make a _shemlen_ feel more comfortable around him. Besides, that whole argument was pointless because he wouldn’t convince anyone he was a harmless little City Elf with his vallaslin. Everyone would pick him as Dalish the moment they looked at him.

Theus looked to his right then to his left, taking a deep breath. He decided to go left, thinking that it didn’t matter which way he went anyway. There were some shops down this way, and if he was going to try and find somewhere to work it might as well be somewhere close by. He forced his head to remain high as he walked, even though he felt like cowering beneath the stares from everyone he passed.

Most did the polite thing and stared, then had the decency to look embarrassed about it. One little shemlen girl let out a squeal as he walked by, pointing and jumping up and down as her parents tried to shush her. Theus didn’t know if that was meant to be a good reaction to him or not. Another older couple of shemlen looked at him and shook their heads, whispering indiscreetly behind their hands as they watched him as he passed. He felt a strong urge to hiss in their direction, but he knew that if an altercation was to happen, even if he were only trying to defend himself, he would be the one manipulated into being at fault. So instead he just kept up his pace, keeping his eyes from catching anyone in the eye.

It didn’t take Theus long to find something that sparked an interest. Most of the shops he passed were selling various clothes or small electronics and the such. This one was an old-looking bookstore that had a wooden stand chained to the front that looked like it would collapse at the slightest wind. It was filled with old, well-loved books that looked like they had been passed from one hand to another for at least a century. He didn’t know what possessed him to stop, most of the times he’d bought books was just to bring them back for Merrill, but he felt like there was something that had lassoed itself around his soul and tugged him towards. Like a tap on the shoulder, a whisper in his ear, go inside, go inside, _go inside_.

Theus sucked in a breath as he poked his head inside the store. The room was darker and larger than he thought it would be, definitely not bright enough to read for a long time without strain. There were books filling up all the shelves along the walls and littered in high piles on four tables on the floor. The counter with the shopping till was directly opposite the door, a large staircase leading upstairs and out of sight about a metre behind.

Theus walked inside, looking around for anyone who might be attending the shop. The only person he saw wasn’t a person at all, but a black cat sprawled lazily over the counter beside the till, watching Theus carefully with big, bright golden eyes. Their tail flicked gently and lazily over the edge of the counter. Something swelled in his chest as he approached the animal carefully, holding his hand out gently towards them. They shifted their attention from his face to his hand, then pulled back away from him. Theus shrugged as he pulled his hand away, thinking next time he’ll bring it a biscuit, accepting the declined invitation. Instead, he looked around, carefully investigating the titles.

He reasoned that just because he wasn’t with the Clan didn’t mean he couldn’t send them interesting things he found from Denerim. This certainly seemed like the kind of place that would turn up a book or two about Arlathan, or something on the elves of old, or maybe something so off that Tamlen would get a real kick out of it. Of course, he probably shouldn’t go about showering everyone in gifts until he managed to secure a job, but he might be able to put some things on hold if he did manage to find something. If the shop attendant ever showed themselves, of course.

He scratched behind his right ear, wincing a little when he caught his new piercing Tamlen had given him two nights before. There had been a few barley ales sunk before Tamlen had put the needle to his ear. Theus couldn’t remember whose idea it had been, but he knew Tamlen did a better job for him than he had for Tamlen.

As he perused the books on the shelves, a large, thick, black tome in the far corner caught his eye. He wandered over, gently taking it from the shelf and turning it over. The thing was old, a lot older than most books Theus had come across, so much so that he was almost worried about touching it. Almost.

Whatever the title had been it was long worn away. Carefully he opened the thick cover, marvelling at the leather finish on the inside. The care that had been provided for it to last in such a beautiful condition made his heart swell with joy. If only all things were treated with such kindness. The words inside were written in a language he didn’t understand, long, loopy, elegant handwriting in neat lines spread over the pages. He thought it might perhaps be a diary, or a journal of sorts, or a report on something that had happened. The pages were thin and he felt like they should only be turned by someone wearing gloves. This didn’t stop him from turning them, of course, his curiosity overwhelming him. This must be a very specific kind of bookstore to have old tomes such as this just out in the open.

He might have just found a favourite place.

“I wish to remind you this is a _shop_, not a _library_.” The words were sharp as steel and sliced through Theus. He jumped at the sudden break of silence within the shop, turning on his heel quickly to search for the source. His ears twitched as he saw a woman leaning up against the counter, her arms over her chest as she looked on him with unrivaled irritation. Theus felt the tips of his ears and his throat grow a little hot as he slowly, and very carefully, closed the book, biting his lower lip nervously.

She was tall and slender, with raven black hair piled high on the back of her head and with olive skin. She was wearing sleek, tight black jeans and a maroon halter neck top that hung low over her hips. Her sharp, golden eyes were lined with thin, precise black lines and her lips were coated in a matching colour to her top. Something about her reminded him of the cat, who was no doubt hers, but now he couldn’t see where the creature had found itself. Probably ran off to find their mistress the moment his back was turned. When he didn’t say anything, she let out a sigh and held her hand out, one eyebrow arching in exasperation.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” Theus asked. She let out another sigh, though this was one was mixed with a noise of irritation as she bounced off the counter. Her strides were long and confident as she walked over to him, snatching the book from his hands quickly and with a slight scratch of her long nails. She was shorter than Theus but she had a presence about her that made Theus feel like she was taking up all the space in the room. At least all the air, anyway. She evidently had no trouble entering the space that he allotted for himself, brushing past him to gently slide the book back into place as she looked over her shoulder.

“Unless you are going to _buy_ it, you do not _read_ it. If I just let everyone come in here and read whenever they felt like it, how would I sell anything?” she said with a certain tone of derision. Theus didn’t care. He was happier that her irritation with him stemmed from some kind of social blunder instead of his simple being. A pleasant change from nearly all the interactions he’d had with shemlen’s if he was being honest.

“How much?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The book.” She looked at him with narrowed eyes, looking him up and down like he was an enemy getting ready to strike. Theus just blinked back to her slowly, keeping his breathing steady. She stepped closer into his space, looking up to him with a certain set of her jaw that informed Theus she intended to force him to step back. He almost did, only out of habit and for comfort, but he held his ground steadily. This set an expression in her features that looked like she was mentally accusing him of something.

Whatever she was trying to gain from him, he didn’t know if he was willing to give it. Not easily, anyway. He didn’t even know why he was asking how much the damn thing was going to cost when he currently had no means to justify the cost, a cost that was probably going to be very high from the quality of the book and simply because he felt like she might raise it just for him.

“Tis yet to be priced,” she said icily after a few moments of silence. She brushed past him again, her arm against his, stalking over to the counter and sliding onto a high stool that was stashed behind the counter. The thing was high enough that her legs could hang free if she so desired it, but now she rested the heels of her boots on the footrests. Theus followed over to the register, walking to the front of the counter. He pressed his palms onto the small free space where a book might be placed for purchase and looked at her carefully.

“When will you price it?”

“When I desire to,” she said icily as she pulled a small book from where it was wedged between the till and the wall. It was a reasonably thick looking book, the edges worn well and inside there were various notes made on sticky notes stuck inside. She opened it at the middle and began flicking through the pages.

“Can it be done by the end of the day?”

“I have no desire to.” Theus bit his lower lip again, scratching at the back of his ear. This time he was careful to avoid his new stud. She made herself look very busy with a noteless page, going as far as pulling out a stack of unused sticky notes. Theus clicked his tongue as he held his hands over the back of his head. He walked over to one of the stacks on the table, keeping an eye on the woman as he did. She might be very good at pretending she wasn’t watching, but Theus had grown up having to pretend that he didn’t notice someone was watching them. He could do this better than her.

He picked up another book, flipped it over in his hands and read the title. This was about something to do with Andraste, not that he really cared too much about her, but it was definitely a book that would be popular for many. He, very pointedly, turned it over to looked at the blank back, then opened the back cover, then the front, then looked over to the counter. He cleared his throat, then when she didn’t look up from her book, cleared his throat louder.

If looks could kill he would have been struck down with a force akin to that of a dragon. Instead, he just held the book up and pointed towards it in an exaggerated gesture.

“This one is not priced either.” Theus was very convinced that she was going to throw the book she was reading at his head. His body anticipated the possibility and he prepared himself to duck out of the way of the projectile. Instead, she pulled her lips back over her teeth in a sickening smile that was akin to a wolf baring their teeth.

“What a shame.” Theus put the book back on the table, then picked up another one.

“Are _any_ of them priced?” Theus asked incredulously as he started rifling through the piles. He didn’t know why. He heard the book snap shut and he looked up to see the woman swiftly clamber off the stool and come around the counter. His rifling was quicker as he picked up another unpriced book and waved it in her face when she came closer. “I am not allowed to read them _or_ buy them, apparently.”

She snatched the book from his hand again, putting it back into the pile on the table. Theus leant his hand on the table, looking at her with an expression that would have given him a smack to the back of the head if this was Marethari. If there wasn’t the slightest hint of a smile in the corner of her lips, he might have thought she was about to kick him out.

“Do you know anything about the great historical writers of our past?” she asked after a silence, looking up to him through her lashes. Her voice was quieter, softer, and her expression was positively one that drilled him straight through the chest. Yet there was something ringing in his ears, a warning bell, the same tingle down his spine when he had come to close to a pack of wolves. Run, it whispered. Danger, it hissed.

“No,” Theus said, his earlier bravado disappearing.

“Then why you’re interested,” she said, her expression returning to that icy demeanour, “truly boggles the mind.”

“I am interested in your sales tactics,” he said without missing a beat. His answer clearly caught her off guard because she let out a short, sharp laugh that she covered with a cough quickly. Theus leant further onto the table, glad that it seemed sturdy enough, and admired the fleeting moment where that iciness and danger seemed to disappear from her. Then as soon as it cleared those expressions came back, and she was scowling up at him. Theus instead pulled away from the table, letting out a puff of air as he looked back to where the first book had been filed away. He motioned towards it with a nod of his head. “I will be back tomorrow. Maybe it will be priced by then.”

“Tis unlikely,” she said as Theus moved towards the door. He paused at the entryway, looking over his shoulder back at her.

“The day after then.” She scowled bitterly in his direction but there was also a bloom of light red over her cheeks. Theus just nodded before he stepped back out onto the street. The sun seemed a little too bright for his eyes after being in the darker store and he blinked a few times to adjust his sight. He continued down the way he’d been walking earlier, taking a moment to look back over his shoulder to the bookstore. Before he might have just thought nothing of the book, but now he was more determined than ever to buy it. Now it was a matter of pride over the _need_ for it. That meant he desperately needed to find a job and soon. He had money enough to last him for three months, but he didn’t want to rely on that, preferring to keep it for emergencies.

There were a few more shops that he passed. There were two small restaurants, a couple of clothing stores, but most of the times the workers inside had that same look on their faces the people he passed on the street had. A strange mix of desire and revulsion, the kind of thing that made his skin crawl and his stomach churn. He decided that he would do his best to avoid those shops at all costs. The further he walked, the more his heart began to sink as he realised that most people would probably not be interested in hiring him. A certain irritation began to rise in his chest, a feeling he didn’t know how to describe, as he looked around.

It was then he spotted a small café across the street. The front was painted in a pretty, light blue, trimmed with a green that was close to the colour of elf root. There were three small, different coloured metal tables out the front with various coloured chairs on either side of them. The tables were underneath a canopy, and they were filled with people sitting together and chatting. Theus walked across the street, sticking his hand into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. He may as well get something to drink if was going to keep walking.

There were a few glances in his direction when he approached the café from those out the front, but they didn’t linger and quickly continued their conversation, his presence clearly not bothering them. Theus looked up to the name of the café, frowning a little at the name. _HighEver After_. He sniffed, not understanding why people named their businesses what they did. It was only when he was nearly at the door that he noticed a small piece of paper stuck up against the window.

_Help Wanted;_

_Inquire Inside._

**…**

“I need a double shot mocha, a long black, and a vanilla chai latte, hold the cinnamon,” Alexander Cousland said over his shoulder as he delivered the woman in front of him a dashing smile. Her cheeks bloomed high with colour as she walked over to the inside table, where she was sitting with two friends. They all looked over to him and giggled, to which Alexander delivered a wink in response. He turned to Inah, ready to help her with whatever she needed, only to see she already had the mugs and plates laid out, ready to go.

Alexander let out a huff of air, raising an eyebrow as he watched her work. She was fast and efficient, and when she looked up to him and delivered a devilish grin, it hit him again how she was probably one of his favourite workers. Not that he was one for favouritism of course, but there was something just so handy about having a mage as a barista. Inah could make the coffee to damn perfection and he never had to worry about her burning the damn beans or the milk for that.

The only thing that made his life hell was she was still a teenager and he couldn’t put her up to shift manager until she graduated high school. Which was still about four years away. It also meant he couldn’t have her around during the week during the rush hours when he really _needed_ her. Still, she managed to pull in a fair amount of business on the weekends.

He turned his attention to the next customer, grinning broadly as he recognised her. She had short, black hair with a curl of a braid going around the crown of her head. Her features were sharp and angular, her dark eyes watchful of everything around her, dressed neatly with blue denim jeans and a white button-up. She also arrived once again exactly at ten o’clock in the morning on the dot. Alexander leant on the counter with his forearms, holding up a finger so he could cut in before she spoke.

“Let me guess. Extra-large cappuccino triple shot with half milk and chocolate sprinkled on top, with a double chocolate brownie.” Alexander said full of confidence. Her cheeks blushed slightly as she tapped her finger against the counter, her jaw clenching slightly.

“I, see I have become predictable,” she said, evidently a little flushed. Her heavy Nevarren accent was tinged with embarrassment. Alexander shrugged, letting his head tilt to the side as a smile played on his lips. He looked her directly in the eye, which made her blush deepen. He learnt very young that people really, really liked it when they were deemed memorable, and he’d learnt that memorising regular orders was a great way of making his customers feel like that. Also meant his tips were going to be better than usual if he managed that. The flirting often helped as well. He punched the order into the computer as she handed him a note. 

“I’d say memorable. The table by the corner has a reserved sign, ready for you,” Alexander said as he handed her the change, giving her a quick wink to seal the deal. As he pressed the till closed, diverting his attention, he heard the familiar chink of coins being dropped into the tip jar. If they kept getting tips like they had been all morning the thing would be full by the end of the day. He looked back to her quickly, the expression on her face near unreadable. Whatever she did for a job, she probably didn’t have a lot of people paying too close attention to what she did. Or what she read, for that matter, as he snuck a glance to the spine of her book. She definitely favoured the Tethras books over all the others. “Thank you. I’ll bring it over when it’s ready.”

“Thank you,” she said, hesitating before she walked over to the table he’d kept reserved for her. She’d stay for a good hour or so, reading her book in the sunshine and slowly nibbling on her brownie. Alexander watched her for a moment, wondering why she was always alone when she came in, before looking back over his shoulder to Inah. She was nearly finished with plating the three drinks onto a tray, but her attention was on him.

“You keep doing that and she’s going to ask you out, old man,” she said, her voice full of warning. Sometimes it was hard to remember that she was fourteen, for all the sense she had in her head. Alexander poked his tongue out at her.

“You don’t complain when I get nice tips for us,” Alexander countered, then he wondered why he was arguing with a teenager. Inah just shrugged, sliding the tray towards him. He scowled at her before he deftly picked up the tray and walked around the counter onto the floor. The three women broke out into giggles as he made his way to their table, another pleasing smile plastered on his face. He stopped right beside the edge of the table, bending down slightly so the muscles in his arms were a little more noticeable, looking each of them in the face a beat longer than a second before he looked to the drinks he was carrying. “Now, who had the mocha?”

“That was me, thank you,” one of the women said, her voice involuntarily squeaking. Alexander pretended he didn’t notice as he deftly moved the drink from the tray onto the table in front of her. Her face was completely red but she managed a polite thankyou without her voice breaking this time. Alexander looked to the woman who had ordered, placing the latte down in front of her.

“Did I guess right?” he asked teasingly, knowing the moment her cheeks blossomed that yes, he had been right. Then he looked to the last woman, easily placing the espresso in front of her. She nodded in thanks, biting on her lower lip as she did. Then she took an exaggerated sip and licked her lips, humming appreciatively. Hook, line and sinker, Alexander thought as he straightened. “If you need anything else, ladies, be sure to let me know.”

Alexander turned to walk back to the counter, seeing Inah finish her plating of the brownie. It was sitting on the counter beside a saucer holding the extra-large mugs they stocked. The mug she had chosen was baby pink, one of the only, so it didn’t happen just by chance. He easily strode across the floor, handing Inah the tray before getting a grip on the plate and saucer to carry over. Inah had put two marshmallows on the side of the saucer beside the spoon, which made Alexander raise an eyebrow in question.

“Just a hunch,” Inah said with a shrug, reaching to scratch the base of her curling horns. Then she reached into the marshmallow container and threw two high into the air, catching them easily. Alexander shook his head with an eye-roll, doing his best not to look impressed at how she managed to do that so easily. He walked over to the corner table where miss extra-large cappuccino was sitting, already incredibly engrossed in her book. He slid the saucer and mug onto the table first, keeping it well away from the edge in case she didn’t notice it was there, and as he placed the plate with the brownie down, she looked up to him.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“You’re very welcome,” Alexander said, about to turn away when she spoke again.

“Cassandra.” Shit. Shit. _Shit_.

“It’s nice to officially meet you, Cassandra,” Alexander said, using a smile to mask the panic that was rising in his chest. It wasn’t unusual for people to ask him out, and half the time he was willing to take them up on the offer, but this was not one of those times. If she was about to ask him out, he would never hear the end of it from Inah. The level of ‘_I told you so_’ would be horrendously unbearable and not something he would be living down any time soon. “I’m Alexander.”

“I was wondering,” she said, giving a nervous pause that made Alexander swallow a little thicker than usual. He could practically feel Inah’s stare on his back as she watched the interaction. She’d informed him once that his antics at work had become popular gossip with her friends at school. No doubt this would become the highlight of their week. “Would it be possible to look into hosting a book club here?”

Alexander almost screamed for joy. Almost cried of relief. The smile he gave her this time was genuine as the panic began to subside.

“I’ve never thought of it. I’m sure we could find a way to accommodate a book club. I’ll let you know next week,” Alexander said happily. Cassandra seemed pleased with his answer, sinking back into the window seat comfortably as she picked up her mug.

“Next week, then.” Alexander could have skipped for joy and was also ready to deliver his own dose of ‘_I told you so_’ to Inah when the door chimed. Instinctively he looked over to see the entering customer and he almost crashed right into a chair upon catching sight of who had just walked in, his mouth going a little dry and his head light-headed.

He was an elf, but he was taller and broader over the shoulders and chest than any other elf Alexander had seen before. His hair was long and dark, so dark that the word that popped into Alexander’s mind was ‘abyss’. He wondered if he were to run his hands through it, would they disappear from sight completely? His skin was a dark brown, tattooed with delicate, black marking on the visible skin on his hands, arms, and face. Alexander wondered if those tattoos were all over, intricate patterns curling and honouring one god or another.

Even the way he dressed was appealing, tight black jeans that showed the muscular curves of his thighs and calves, dark boots that looked well tended, a loose black button-up untucked with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Alexander coughed to himself, drawing the attention of the elf with a sharp movement of his head. The patterns of the tattoo on his face was perfectly symmetrical, spreading over his forehead and trailing down his cheeks to either side of his top lip, a section of it through the middle of his bottom lip and down his chin, down the middle of his throat. Lips that were full and looked very inviting. Alexander felt a little dizzy at the sheer _beauty_ of him, from his long nose to his full lips and dark, dark green eyes.

Somehow his feet had continued walking even as his mind had decided to completely malfunction. He scolded himself and shook his head, bringing himself back to the earth. He was twenty-five, not fifteen, and besides, it wasn’t like he was _wanting_ for any attention anyway. He delivered his most dashing smile as he slid back behind the counter, leaning against the counter as casually as he could. He was definitely only flirting for tips, no other reason. It was just handy this customer was utterly stunning and the kind he’d _love _to ask him out.

“Hey there, what can I get you?” Alexander asked. The elf looked to him and blinked before his gaze drifted to where Inah was standing. His thick black eyebrows frowned slightly as one of his ears twitched. Ears that were heavily pierced with various studs, hoops, and clasps. Alexander began to wonder if he had piercings hidden away anywhere else on him and he swallowed those thoughts thickly away. Oh Maker, but he was _hot_.

“What would you recommend?” he asked. His voice was deep and smooth, like running fingers over warm velvet. Alexander looked over his shoulder to the menu, more to remind him of where he was than anything else. Also because his mind had gone completely blank on what exactly they offered. He caught sight of Inah snickering at him and Alexander fought the urge to give her the finger.

“Depends, do you like sweet or bitter?”

“Depends on the situation,” the elf said, tilting his head to the side as he frowned up to the menu. Alexander felt his heart thunder in his chest as he breathed in deeply through his nose. He licked his lips, ready to make more conversation when the elf’s ears twitched again, something brightening in his eyes as he nodded upwards. “Caramel. The caramel one. Iceshake.”

“Good choice, if you’re a sweet tooth,” Alexander said, half in a warning. He’d had more than a few complaints that the caramel was ‘too sweet’ to drink the whole thing, which he found ridiculous. It was caramel, not salted caramel. What did they expect? “How big would you like it?”

“How big do you offer?” Alexander almost choked on the air, trying to remind him that not everyone turned everything into a flirt off. He motioned over to the _recyclable_ plastic carrier mugs to the left of him.

“Happy to give you any size you’d like.” Inah’s snicker did not go unnoticed.

“The biggest.”

“Perfect. Have here or take away?”

“That depends.” For what felt like the sixth time in this conversation Alexander felt thrown. He didn’t know what it was but he didn’t normally become so _flustered_ by anyone. Well, anyone that wasn’t intentionally trying to fluster him anyway. And he had absolutely no idea if this guy was _actually_ trying to fluster him or if this was just how he was.

“On?”

“The sign. On the window.”

“Ah,” Alexander said. He couldn’t deny the prospect of having this guy working with him would be a very nice incentive for coming into work, but he couldn’t base the hiring of all of his staff for their level of hotness. Though he would probably get a lot more tips with this guy behind the counter. Even the giggling trio seemed to be enamoured by the way they were staring at him. “Well, do you have any experience in customer service?”

“Not exactly,” came the reply. The elf scratched behind his ear, wincing slightly when he knocked what looked like to be a slightly painful stud. “I have just come to Denerim, from the Brecilian.”

“Oh,” Alexander said, realising that he probably had never held a job like one in a café before. He leant onto one hip, biting the inside of his cheek gently as he thought. It wasn’t like he hadn’t trained someone before, but most of the time they came in as teenagers looking for their first job and he wasn’t relying on them taking over from one of his permanent barista’s. Ideally, he wanted someone with some kind of experience behind them, _but_, Sapphir wasn’t due to leave for another two weeks, so if she could get this guy trained up to standard by the time she had to leave, then that would be fine with Alexander.

She owed him enough favours anyway.

“You doing anything tomorrow morning?” Alexander asked, oddly feeling like he was beginning this the same way he normally did asking someone for a date. The elf shook his head, the expression still coolly controlled. “We open at six. Come between then and six-thirty, neat clothing, preferably something black. If we can get you trained up before my main leaves, you can have the job.”

There was a glimmer in his eyes, the same kind that had sparked when he’d spotted the caramel drink, but this time it lit all of his features. Alexander was almost startled when his lips broke into a smile, not overly large or broad, but a smile that was sweet and pleased and all too damn nice to look at. Alexander felt like he was going to melt into a puddle.

“Ma serannas. I am Theus,” the elf, Theus, said as he extended his hand towards Alexander. Alexander clasped it happily.

“Alexander. Nice to meet you.”

“You, too. Takeaway, please.”


	2. Friends, Old and New

Sapphir Tabris tapped her foot impatiently on the sidewalk, letting loose a breath. She wasn’t particularly fond of being in the Palace District, mostly because all the shem’s that lived here gave her dirty looks. Like she was something that had come crawling out of the sewers. She rolled her shoulders back, forcing herself to raise her chin and hold eye contact with anyone who looked at her in disgust for just a moment too long. The humans always told them if they wanted to get out of the Alienage then they just had to work for it, but then they’d look at them like they were dirt when they managed to do just that.

Now she was standing outside _Versity_, which was probably the strangest sight for any of the high and mighty nobles. She was certain the only elves who came to _Versity_ were probably those they hired to work the place. If they even did such a thing. If it had been up to her, she would have found a nice place closer to Market District, but this was where Cailan had asked her to meet him. No doubt he was going to try and work in a lunch at the same time. Sapphir let out a sigh, scratching the back of her neck. Sometimes she wasn’t sure if Cailan was actually interested in what she was saying about the alienage or if he was still meeting with her to attempt to convey a sympathetic ear towards the Alienage in an attempt of placation.

With Anora as his wife, she wouldn’t be surprised if it was the second. She’d just be disappointed.

Sapphir let out a sigh, tugging irritably on her ponytail. Her shoulder bag felt heavy with the weight of her laptop and her reader, and her stomach had that horrible hollow feeling it had whenever she was nervous. Part of her wanted to convince herself she was just nervous because she was in Palace District, but she knew that it was just because of her and Cailan’s last conversation. She took a deep breath and checked her watch. She had arrived a few minutes early, never wanting to give a human the chance to berate her about keeping them waiting. They’d agreed to meet at two for lunch, and it was pushing just past. She wondered if she knew him well enough yet to get away with giving him flack for it.

A murmur among the people around her, and most of them stopping quickly caught her attention. Sapphir let out another sigh as she bounced off the wall she was leaning against, straining to see. There was a certain something about the way people’s energy changed whenever Cailan was around. Something that started excitement and awe amongst the human populace. Sapphir knew his welcome would not be such if he came to the Alienage. There wouldn’t be excitement there.

She tapped her fingers against her bag and took a deep breath. She strained to see over the people, but at least she could make out the shining golden hair that was heading towards the door. No matter how many times she had met with Cailan, she could never get used to it. Never used to the fanfare that followed him, the strange looks, the lingering questions that followed after her whispered behind hands. He’d probably insist on letting a driver take her back to the Alienage. She’d refuse it if he tried to insist, she didn’t feel like putting up with any of Shianni’s comments about all that.

“Ah, Sapphir, am I late?” Sapphir forced a smile as Cailan came to a stop right before her. There was a cheerful smile on his face and he was seemingly unaware of the gawking expressions of the people around them. Sapphir raised her chin again. The King of Ferelden, meeting with an Alienage elf for _lunch_? She could imagine the gossip magazines tomorrow would have another field day with this.

“No, not really,” Sapphir said as she looked at her watch again. She made a conscious effort not to look at the gawking bystanders, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of seeing they had gotten under her skin. She especially avoided looking at the six well dressed, indiscreetly armed men standing near and around Cailan. She could probably put those men to good use in the Alienage if he wanted to help lower the crime there. Sapphir squeezed the bridge of her nose as Cailan gestured to the door of _Versity_. A headache was beginning to form right behind her eyes.

“I know this isn’t usually your kind of place,” Cailan said as one of his bodyguards opened the door for him. He nodded in thanks, whilst Sapphir just tried not to look the guy in the eye. “Just at short notice it was easier to come here.”

“Sure you didn’t want to just set tongues wagging like in Val Royeaux?” Sapphir asked, probably a little too sharply. Whether Cailan noticed her tone or not he didn’t let her know. Instead he let out a laugh as though it was some kind of inside joke between them. Probably because one of his bodyguards stiffened a little. He was too good at this, Sapphir thought, at pretending everything rolls off him. Just like Alistair would whenever he turned his jokes when things were serious.

“Maybe you should be here with Anora instead. You two could gossip about me,” Cailan laughed but it made Sapphir bristle. The idea of having lunch with Anora, despite her being a close friend of Alexander’s, was pretty high on the list of things she would prefer going her life without ever doing. She stayed silent in response, taking the moment to look around _Versity_.

As a child, she’d heard a lot about the grand restaurants the nobility of Denerim often attended. There was a part of her that assumed she would never see the inside of one. She and Shianni used to dress up and pretend they were heiresses or something of the like, with Soris as their waiter, as they acted through a made-up lunch. Shianni would always order the beef, and Sapphir would order the fish, and Soris would dramatically sashay his way across the floor with their imaginary plates and spoke with overly exaggerated gestures. They’d imagine the place filled with golden chandeliers, marble columns, beautiful intricate lattice work and water fountains, where the people inside dressed in clothes fancier than anything she would ever own in her whole entire life.

Now she was inside, and could see they weren’t far off, it made her stomach churn. How could people live like this and still think there was nothing wrong with the system? How she and her cousins, and her family, could work harder than half these people and they would never come close to the way they lived? How could they not see their own wealth or were they simply wilfully blind to the suffering?

Cailan walked confidently inside, taking the lead and half wave to someone who Sapphir presumed to be a host. No doubt he had his own favourite booth they kept clear whenever he announced he was going to arrive. Sapphir shuffled awkwardly after him, not entirely sure which direction they were going, sometimes outright glaring towards anyone who looked at her too long. One look was enough to make them look a bit embarrassed and tear their gaze away from her. Gods, how she could still feel their judgement.

She forgot, so often, there was a line drawn between Cailan and herself, one that wasn’t thin. Sure, when she was with Alistair it was hard to forget just _where_ his blood came from, with his apartment in the Market District and how hard he worked to get his own money. How he couldn’t keep it all by himself on his wage and had to rent out the spare rooms to other people to continue with his lifestyle. But when pressed, he still had the backing of being a _Theirin_ which carried so much more weight than anything Sapphir could ever have. Even Alexander, who tried so hard _not_ to be of nobility, still had the naivety of someone who grew up not having to assess his place in life. He even had a house in the Palace District that he had _by himself_ that definitely couldn’t be the kind of place someone could get simply on the wages of a coffee shop owner. Not that Sapphir had ever been there, or been invited. 

Sapphir scolded herself. She wasn’t being fair to Alexander. He did try his best to help out whenever she needed him and went out of his way to learn about what was happening in the Alienage. He also introduced her to Cailan. But still.

The table Cailan eventually sat at was a booth at the far right of the restaurant. He slid onto the seat easily, whilst Sapphir felt awkward trying to shuffle in her side. From here they could see the whole restaurant and it was now that Sapphir noticed she and Shianni had been wrong about the water fountain. Instead it was a Mabari ice sculptor. She almost rolled her eyes at the sight of it. How pretentious.

“So, Sapphir. How have you been? It’s been what, two months since we last met?” Cailan asked conversationally. There was something in his voice, in the inflections, that almost made her wince. Sometimes he and Alistair could be so similar. So alike and yet so different. She’d once pointed out to Alistair the similarities between them, in the way they spoke to the way they walked, the curve of their noses and the shape of their eyes. Alistair was very quick to point out their differences.

“I’ve been fine. Busy, trying to balance work is difficult sometimes,” Sapphir said with a sigh. Cailan nodded solemnly and Sapphir didn’t doubt for a moment that he knew exactly how difficult it could be. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be to balance everything that would be going on in his life.

“Alexander told me you handed in your resignation. He’s very sad to see you go,” Cailan said. The corners of Sapphir’s lips quirked into a small smile. She wasn’t entirely surprised that he’d decided to go a safe topic for both of them. Neutral. Or was he just letting her know that he was keeping track of what she was up to?

“It wasn’t an easy decision,” Sapphir admitted. If she was being honest with herself, it was one of the harder decisions of her life. The money was good, the work was something she enjoyed and Alexander was a good friend for the most part. She just needed to choose what she wanted to focus her time on, and now it was to work for the betterment of the Alienage.

“I imagine most of them aren’t,” Cailan said, then he paused almost apologetically before continuing, “I heard about you and Alistair.”

Sapphir almost scowled. Alexander, you _gossip_.

“It just wasn’t working anymore,” Sapphir shrugged nonchalantly, “we were barely seeing each other and when we did, we were both just so tired from work it felt like we still weren’t together.”

“I’m saddened to hear it. He’s awfully fond of you.” Sapphir wondered if she were to kick the King of Ferelden in shins how much trouble she might get in. Instead she just grit her teeth and picked up the menu. She was disgruntled to see that it was all written in Orlesian, with no translation. Who in the world reads Orlesian in _Ferelden_? Although that did explain the over the top décor that was toeing the line of gaudy.

Sapphir looked up to Cailan, feeling her temper flare. Then she noticed he was watching her intently. Like she was being assessed. She blinked at him in surprise, then scowled furiously, slapping her menu back onto the table before crossing her arms over her chest and slumping back into her seat, pouting like a frustrated child. Stupid prick, getting under her skin so easily. Stupid her, for letting him. Cailan just cocked an eyebrow, picking up his own menu and looking at it half-heartedly. No doubt he knew everything that was available like the back of his hand, or if he was anything like Alistair, looked the menu up online and made a decision before coming so as to not waste any time.

“If you really want to become the representative of the Alienage in the parliament, you need to get a thicker skin,” he said, before looking up to her over the menu, “I had you tilted from the moment I said to meet here.”

“I didn’t expect you to play those stupid games with me,” Sapphir snapped.

“And the ones who really play it will have you convinced just the same,” Cailan said, his voice suddenly very serious and dropping deeper than the normal, light-hearted tone she associated with him. He leant forward over the table, no hint of humour in the secret corners of his face, no jovialness where it could normally be found. “They will sedate you with pretty smiles and wine until you are stumbling over your own two feet and then brand you a drunk for it.”

“How do you manage to avoid it?”

“Treat every smile as insincere and don’t accept their drinks,” Cailan said with a shrug as he leaned back into his seat. He looked back to the menu, humming gently to himself as he frowned slightly. He looked very much like Alistair at that moment and Sapphir felt a small twinge in her chest. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss him. “I’d suggest the roast quail. It’s quite nice here.”

“Sounds Orlesian.”

“It’s delicious.”

“I prefer lamb,” Sapphir said. Cailan nodded slowly, looking back to the menu for a moment before closing it and setting it onto the table. A waiter came over then, with a jug of water. Sapphir looked up to him and smiled, her father's words of always being polite ringing in her mind. _Don’t give the shem a reason to treat you less than you are_. She needn’t have bothered. The waiter glanced at Sapphir a little too long, the tips of his turning red before he focused on her water glass. She clenched her hand into a fist underneath the table and the most pleasant thank you in the history of thank you's. From Cailan’s unamused expression it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Have you spoken to Urien?” Sapphir asked as the waiter began to fill up Cailan’s water glass. Cailan tapped his fingers against the table, waving the man off before he was finished. The waiter bowed his head low and backed away from the table, though his eyes darted between Sapphir and Cailan quickly before he turned away completely.

Sapphir had three forks on the table near her left hand, she was certain she could do without one of them.

“I have not,” Cailan said simply. Sapphir’s fingers curled tighter in a fist as she breathed in deeply, trying to get that thundering race of her heart under control. Cailan reached for his water glass, tapping his finger against it a few times before his eyes flickered directly to hers. Sometimes she was blown away by the colour of them, how beautiful and blue they were, how different they were to the colour she was used to. He was a handsome man, with his golden hair and strong jaw and pretty eyes, and a soft gentle smile that made him seem all the friendlier. Sometimes Sapphir felt like that was just another weapon he used. “I cannot go to him empty-handed with accusations.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“Sapphir, all I have is your word. I have no proof, no testimonies, nothing.”

“So, all you do is stand there and do nothing? You cannot be serious,” Sapphir muttered, burying her face into her hands. She felt stupid, stupid for believing he would care enough to do _something_ about what was happening in the Alienage. What _Vaughan_ was doing in the Alienage.

“I can’t do anything with hearsay Sapphir, my hands are tied.”

“So, find a knife,” Sapphir said sharply. Cailan let out a sigh, gesturing to her with an open palm.

“I thought I had.” Sapphir blinked once to Cailan, then again. She was actually dumbfounded by his words, not entirely sure how to process what he had just said. What he had just inferred. Was this another one of his games? A test of some sort? Her head felt like it was spinning and that she wanted to be sick. Stupid Cailan and his stupid fancy restaurant.

Cailan leaned forward on the table again, his forearms leaning on the edge of the table as he looked at her again. His face was serious again, intent as his eyes flickered all over her face as though he was searching for something. Sapphir stared back at him, not backing down from the intensity of his gaze.

“This isn’t a matter of me not believing you, it’s a matter of I have no evidence. If you could get one of the women to come forward,” Cailan began but then paused when Sapphir slammed her fist on the table. She took a deep breath again, closing her eyes before opening them again. Cailan was stone-faced opposite her but she wasn’t phased by that, it was the pity in his eyes. She hated it when humans looked at her with pity. She wanted them to feel the same rage that she had inside of her, the same fundamental fury that came from years of oppression. How could he sit there and not _feel_ it?

“He’s a fucking _Arl’s_ son. And also, genius idea your _majesty_, if only _I_ thought about that. Oh, wait, I did, but no one would make a statement or move to press charges. Not even when Alistair came down to the Alienage to make it easier,” Sapphir snarled, her shoulders hunching. She must have been louder than she intended because Cailan’s bodyguards turned to look at her. They all had blank expressions on their faces but Sapphir saw their fingers twitch towards their belts. Cailan raised his hand to them and somehow that made her feel even angrier. Was she not allowed to express her frustrations, her _fury_, in the same ways he would be allowed?

“Sapphir, I _believe_ you. I _believe_ it _all_. However, I _cannot_ go to _anyone_ without proof,” Cailan said, his voice low and stern, sharp in the tension around them, “not without giving your name, at the very least. _That_ is also something I am _not_ willing to do.”

Sapphir sat back in the booth, biting the inside of her cheek. There were a lot of things she expected from Cailan but him attempting to protect her outright was not one of those. She also hadn’t considered the ramifications for her _if _Cailan had gone to Urien with the accusations against his son. There was a pang of guilt in her heart as the anger that was clouding her mind cleared and made everything easier to see. Because Cailan was right.

She had nothing to offer him other than her words. The words of the elven women in the Alienage, people Cailan himself had never met. She squeezed the bridge of her nose again. Her father had been right when he said any change would come with hard work. She knew this would be hard. She just didn’t think she’d be running around in circles the whole time.

He’d also warned her she had her mothers temper. Quick to the fight but never taking the time to think through the details. No wonder he’d been so worried when she’d told him the first time she was going to meet Cailan.

“If I can convince someone to come forward, what do you think will happen?”

“I can’t say. I doubt anything would happen to Urien himself, but Vaughan could be convicted and put away. The scandal might make Urien stand down as Arl, but I’d have no idea who might replace him. Could be someone better, could be someone worse.”

“This is giving me a headache,” Sapphir muttered, rubbing her temples. Cailan nodded, that same understanding in his expression that he had earlier. He opened his mouth to say something else when the waiter returned, his hands clasped together in front of him as he put on a nice professional smile. He looked predominantly to Cailan, and Sapphir just tapped her fingers against the top of the table. She wondered how well she could annoy him.

“Are you ready to order, your majesty?” His voice was thick and Orlesian and Sapphir raised an eyebrow as she snorted. No wonder he’d looked at her so oddly. Cailan just smiled in response, ignoring her, and held the menu up to the waiter.

“Yes, a serving of the quail, lamb shanks, and could we also have my favourite bottle? Thank you,” Cailan said. The waiter smiled and inclined his head, taking the menu from Cailan. Sapphir didn’t get a smile, just the waiter quickly taking her menu without really looking at her and walking off. Sapphir stuck her tongue out to his back and Cailan tapped his foot against hers underneath the table.

“Behave,” Cailan said, but his lips quirked into a smile. He readjusted how he was sitting, putting his arm up along the back of the booth. Sapphir rolled her eyes to him, reaching out and taking a sip of her water. “Sapphir, if you get someone to come forward, I can force an investigation. That might encourage others to come forward too. But until I have something, _anything_, I have nothing.”

“I’ll see if either I or Shianni can get someone to come forward. But what will happen if we can’t?”

“I’ll negotiate extra officers to patrol the Alienage. There’s not much else I can do. I don’t want to give Vaughan a hint that there is someone watching him,” Cailan said. Sapphir straightened in her seat, her mind working quickly at his words. _Someone watching him_.

“Cailan, do you think we could hire someone to watch him? Like, a private investigator?” Sapphir asked. Cailan smirked to her from where he was sitting, one of his eyebrows cocking.

“Oh, genius idea, if only _I_ thought about that,” Cailan said in the exact same tone she had used against him earlier. Sapphir dipped her fingers into her water and flicked some water at his face, earning a laugh from the king. He wiped it away with his sleeve as the waiter returned, presenting the bottle to Cailan, who looked at the label before nodding. The waiter poured the wine into the Cailan’s glass first a little, before holding the bottle upright again. Cailan took a sip of the wine before nodding, waving for him to continue pouring.

The waiter poured the remainder of Cailan’s glass before pouring Sapphir’s. His eyes flickered to look at Sapphir, who curled her lip back to him in response, before he placed the bottle onto a wooden disc to protect the table cloth. Sapphir looked to Cailan, who was sipping happily at his wine.

“Shouldn’t someone be drinking that before you or something?”

“With him? No. He’s one of Anora’s spies.”

“Anora has spies on you?”

“Val Royeaux, remember?” Cailan said as he tilted his glass towards Sapphir. She snorted in response. She wasn’t one who was inclined to listen to the gossip magazines, but Alexander had confirmed to her that the rumours swirling Cailan’s visit to Orlais were more accurate than she might have guessed. He didn’t seem overly upset about his wife having people follow him.

“Have you spoken to Alistair lately?” Cailan let out a sigh, putting his wine glass back on the table. Sapphir almost regretted asking. She knew they weren’t exactly close but last time Alistair had told her they were trying to find some kind of relationship for both of them.

“Not for about a month or so. Eamon has been difficult lately and Alistair still sees the man as some kind of saint,” Cailan said. He rubbed at his jaw before taking another sip of his wine. Sapphir nodded. She knew all too well how much Alistair looked up to the man. She didn’t know why. He sent Alistair off to the Chantry when he was a child just because his wife thought Alistair was Eamon’s bastard son. Alistair didn’t even meet Cailan properly until his father’s death, when Cailan discovered the truth of his half-brother.

“I’m glad I don’t have to sit through another dinner with him at least.”

“You’re lucky. Next time I’ll come to your apartment and hide there,” Cailan laughed. Sapphir raised one eyebrow.

“I cannot imagine how that would go down.”

“I’m sure once I go through being pelted with rotting garbage, I could use your shower,” Cailan said. Sapphir reached forward and took a sip of her wine. It felt smooth and hot against her throat and she knew that it definitely was not a cheap bottle. She sucked her lips before giving him a small smile. “I’m under no illusion of how the people there feel about me.”

“Once this mess with Vaughan is finished, it will help improve relationships,” Sapphir said in reply.

“It would help a lot more when we manage to get an _elven_ representative into the parliament to speak directly for your people. Until then, you’re the best I have,” Cailan said. He raised his glass to her again, and this time Sapphir joined him. There was something swelling in her chest. Until then, she would do the best for her people. Until then, she would be Cailan’s knife.

…

Alexander pulled into his driveway, glad to finally be home. Not that the day had been overly stressful. The afternoon was quite calm compared to the morning rush, settling nicely in a steady but not overwhelming stream of people after the inescapable lunch craziness. Alexander hadn’t minded the quiet afternoon. His mind had been reeling after meeting Theus, his mind struggling to settle after watching him sip at his caramel ice shake and practically dancing out of the café. Theus was seemingly unaware of the sheer _presence_ he wielded.

Unfortunately, the slow afternoon meant that Inah wasn’t busy and Alexander was treated to her constant stream of sly and prodding comments on his business skills until her shift was over and Lace came in to replace her. Alexander thought he might get some peace with Lace. He thought very, very wrong. Somehow, she _already_ knew all about Theus. She didn’t let up questioning Alexander on just how handsome he had to be for Alexander to hire him without even looking at a resume. Alexander maintained he hadn’t technically _hired_ Theus yet and he was going to just be on a _trial_, but he might as well have declared himself the new King of Ferelden for all she was listening. No doubt one of them had told Sapphir already and he was going to have to endure a morning set up of her completely shredding him and incinerating the ribbons she left behind.

Alexander frowned to himself when he had the sudden, horrifying realisation that they were probably all on some group chat, _without him_. That would explain a lot of what happened at the café.

Whatever.

Alexander brought his motorbike to a stop right before the garage door, hitting the button, when he noticed someone sitting on his front porch in the dark. He frowned. He wasn’t expecting someone and all his friends wouldn’t turn up uninvited. Hell, half his friends probably didn’t even have his address or even knew where he lived. Or, in Sapphir’s case, they’d never be caught dead in the Royal District without a very, _very_ good reason for it. The only people he could think of that might be in the area was Alistair, who was pretty good at messaging ahead of time if he was going to drop in after work (and often let himself into the backyard and was more than happy to crawl through the dog door), or Anora, who actually had a key.

Carefully and slowly Alexander pushed his motorbike into the garage when the door was nearly all the way up, kicking the stand down and making sure it was secure before unbuckling his helmet and placing it carefully onto the sheeted bench on the far wall. Normally he’d go straight inside through the garage but he wasn’t about to go inside and open the door when this person might be intending to rob him. Not that there was an overabundance of things inside they might want to steal but it was the principal of the thing. Instead he walked back towards the garage door, flicking the porch light on, hitting the button for the door, and headed towards the front porch.

As he approached, he focused on the person sitting on his front steps. Well, the man. Though, as Alexander squinted towards him, man would be generous. There was still a roundness to his face that would leave as he grew older, and something about the way he was sitting had a certain _awkwardness_ about it that Alexander recognised from when him and his brother had been teenagers. He scratched his jaw, trying to figure out _why _this guy would be sitting on his steps. Unless it was a wrong address, which was hopefully the reason.

He had thick headphones on and was looking down to his phone, apparently unaware the light had come on behind him as he nodded and tapped his foot to a beat that Alexander couldn’t hear. His clothes didn’t look like they were in poor condition, and as Alexander drew closer he could see a brand that was pretty popular in Ostwick. His black jeans were ripped in the knees and a little on the thigh, but it was more in the fashionably disheveled than actually worn away from being worn day in, day out. He also wore a thick hoodie that had the brand of one of Cailan’s favourite fashion houses from Amaranthine, and sitting by his feet was a large suitcase that looked brand new.

Alexander let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his head. He was ready to question this guy, or kid, on why he was sitting on the front steps of his porch, when he looked up. Alexander almost skidded to a complete stop in shock. Looking at his face directly Alexander’s mind began piecing the puzzle together pretty quickly, because he knew those features well, that nose and jawline very, very familiar. It was hard to miss honestly, the family traits that Alexander had seen so many times whenever he’d holidayed in Ostwick. He might have mistaken which brother was sitting on his step if it weren’t for those bright, sky blue eyes that were staring up to him.

“Trevelyan,” Alexander said, his voice quiet and cautious, almost afraid of frightening the kid away. Beauregard managed to give him a crooked smile as he pulled his headphones off, the sound of heavy drums, screeching guitars and very loud screaming ringing from the fat, round pads.

The last time Alexander had seen Beauregard was four years ago when the Trevelyan’s had come to Highever. He’d been a rather surly, angry preteen who made it obvious to everyone and anyone that he’d rather be anywhere else other than in the south during the summertime. He’d spent most of his time following the littlest one, Dianne? Dina?, at the behest of his mother, who spent most of her time drinking with Alexander’s mother. It had been a grand celebration for Eleanor and Bryce’s thirtieth wedding anniversary. A happier time, with his parents.

Alexander tried to do the math in his head to figure out just how old Beauregard was now. He was sixteen? Maybe pushing seventeen? Alexander couldn’t remember when his birthday was, if he even knew that in the first place. That was more Fergus’s territory of remembering things. Alexander had more to do with the two eldest of the Trevelyan tribe, Gideon and Ariadne. Hell, when he’d first moved to Denerim it had been Gideon that let him crash on a couch for a few weeks before he found a house. And had put up with all the shit that Alexander brought into that apartment when he was working through his ‘issues’.

“Hey,” Beauregard said awkwardly. He stood up, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie as he looked to the ground. He looked about as uncomfortable as Alexander was confused. He knew that Gideon was living in an apartment somewhere near the heart of the Royal District and easily within a half hour drive from Alexander’s house. “I, ah, got your address from Laffy.”

Lafayette? Alexander was surprised that Lafayette even had his address to begin with, although he could have easily gotten it through Fergus if he’d asked. Still, that brought more questions than actual answers.

“Oh, yeah. How’s he going? Is he still in training?”

“Nah, graduated two years ago. There was a pretty big fanfare. Surprised you didn’t make an appearance.”

“I was busy. I had the shop, and also I didn’t know,” Alexander said. That, and he couldn’t think of anything worse than going to Ostwick in the autumn. Normally Alexander would have invited Beauregard inside by now, purely because it was the polite thing to do and his mother would be swearing at him from beyond the fade with a rage that would make a demon blush if he didn’t, but doing that made him feel weirdly uncomfortable. Like there was a line and he might be stepping over it somehow. “Where is he now?”

“Got stationed in Kirkwall. Says it’s a nightmare but better than the estate,” Beauregard said with an awkward laugh, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes and his voice cracked a little on the last word.

_Estate_. Alexander felt his stomach churning slightly. The Trevelyan’s definitely had an estate in Denerim somewhere, though Alexander was pressed to try and think exactly _where_. He’d been there once when they all ended up in Denerim for Cailan’s wedding and he had way too many whiskeys. Gideon and Fergus had to drag him back to a house when he couldn’t keep upright on his own two feet, and the Trevelyan’s were closer than the Cousland’s.

Alexander almost snickered at the memories of Cailan and Anora’s wedding. _That_ had been a _night_.

“You didn’t come here to tell me about Laffy.” Something shot across Beauregard’s features, a darkness flickering in his eyes and dimming the overall brightness of his face. Alexander crossed his arms over his chest as Beauregard looked back down to the ground, kicking at the steps gently. “Why did he give you my address, and why are you here when Gideon lives nearby?”

“I, er,” Beauregard coughed and looked to the side, scrunching his nose up as he licked his lips quickly, “I can’t go to Gideon.”

“Beauregard,” Alexander said in his sternest 'talking to a moody teenager' voice that he used often enough on Inah.

“Reau,” Beauregard shot back hotly, looking at Alexander with a strange twist of his lip and his shoulders bunching up like he was ready to protect himself from an attack. Alexander frowned as he stepped closer to him, looking him over again. There were some dark lines under his eyes and it looked like he had a bit of a fat lip, like he’d been struck a few days earlier. It was close to being completely healed. “I, it’s Reau. Not Beauregard. Not Beau. _Reau_.”

“Reau,” Alexander corrected himself, raising one hand to keep the peace. This was clearly enough to calm him down, as his raised shoulders slowly slumped back to their seemingly relaxed slouch. Alexander’s gaze flickered towards his suitcase, making sure his attention was pointed, before he looked back up to Reau. “_Why_ are you _here_? What’s happened?”

It was like he’d hit the switch of a set of dynamite that was scattered over the wall of a dam. Reau’s lower lip quivered and he pressed the heel of his palms hard into his eyes. He let out a choked, broken noise from his throat that was in the middle of a whine and a sob, and it tugged on some unknown thing deep inside Alexander that had him clearing the distance between them in two steps. He pulled Reau into a tight hug, the same kind of hug that Fergus used to wrap him in until he grew too big. Reau gripped at his jacket like Alexander was a lifeline, sobbing into his chest as he tried to speak, tried to find words to explain whatever it was that was going on. 

Alexander had an overwhelming urge to call Gideon based purely on the fact that he had no idea how to deal with a younger sibling that was upset, but he knew better. Whatever had happened, Reau had clearly felt it safer for him to come to Alexander, someone who was kind of like some distant cousin that appeared at parties just to get drunk on the free booze, than it was to go to his own brother. Either that, or Reau had called Lafayette looking for advice, and for some reason that Alexander couldn’t fathom, Lafayette had deemed it better for Reau to come to Alexander instead of Gideon.

“Hey, hey,” Alexander said, making his voice as soft as he could muster. He pulled back from Reau gently, looking to him carefully. His eyes were red and he looked, well, exhausted. Fuck it, if Lafayette knew he was here then it should be fine for Reau to come inside, and if he needed, he _would_ call Gideon to come and get him in two seconds. He was certain his number was somewhere. Either that or he could call Cailan off the bat and ask for a favour. Maker knew that Cailan would come up with something and, if not, Alexander could always rely on Anora. “Come on, let’s get inside. I have some hot chocolate.”

“I’m not twelve,” Reau said surly, rubbing at his eyes. He looked embarrassed, but the kind of embarrassed you get from a teenager who’s trying to act tougher than he is. Alexander almost cringed as it brought up memories of the shit he used to get up to prove himself to Fergus. Alexander raised one eyebrow as he leaned down and lifted up Reau’s suitcase, almost surprised by how light it was. He definitely didn’t pack much.

“That’s not a no. I got marshmallows too,” Alexander nodded towards the door. Reau let out another sniff and with the sullenest expression, followed after Alexander, who fished his house keys out of his pocket. He looked over his shoulder to Reau, doing his best to give him a ‘this totally isn’t awkward’ smile before he unlocked the front door. The alarm started beeping loudly and Alexander crossed the foyer in a few steps, quickly pumping in the numbers as Reau managed to find the light switch.

“Your house is very white,” Reau commented, tilting his head to see past Alexander into the loungeroom. Alexander snorted. He was used to the initial reaction people had to seeing the inside of the house, and had suffered through people complimenting him on maintaining a minimalist place to live. How he’d always smile through gritted teeth because most of the time it was a one-night stand who just wanted to get into his bed, and say nothing for _why_ there was fuck all in his house. Not that he had to explain himself to anyone anyway. He was just thankful that Alistair didn’t ask him too much about stuff, or that Cailan already knew everything there was to know. Anora could sometimes be overbearing, but she would often call by when Alexander was at work and he’d know because there’d be some meal in the fridge and some little ornament or cushion added to the house somewhere.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before. There’s a spare room down the hall to the right. Take this and dump it,” Alexander said as he handed Reau his suitcase, “then come and find me in the kitchen through the lounge.”

Reau gripped the handle of his suitcase and nodded slowly. Then he turned and quietly and tentatively made his way down the corridor, looking around him as he did. Alexander let out a sigh as he walked towards the kitchen, rubbing the side of his face. He’d expected to finish up the day and come home and finish off his book before he fell asleep. Now there was no way he’d manage to read anything, and depending on how Reau was feeling, he might have to ask Sapphir to begin opening and training Theus before he came in.

He walked into the kitchen, flicking on the dull yellow lights instead of the bright white ones, and walked over to the small coffee machine. He didn’t normally use it but Anora had bought it as a house warming present so he couldn’t really get rid of it either. Though he was pretty certain the only reason she did buy it was so she could have coffee when she came over. He changed the water, then watched as the little dial began to twitch as the machine grew warmer.

Alexander let out another sigh before pulling his phone out from his back pocket. He’d been trying to avoid looking at it since his shift had finished. He had three messages from Sapphir, one from Nathaniel, and for some reason, there were five from Alistair. He’d check those later and he was definitely going to avoid opening Sapphir’s messages until he really had to open them. He opened up his contacts and searched first for Lafayette, then he searched for Laffy, then he looked up Trevelyan because for a long time Ariadne’s name in his phone had been _#1 Trevelyan_, but there was nothing that indicated he had Lafayette’s number. He was glad to see at least Gideon’s name was still in there, though he had no way of understanding how it ended up as _G Dogga Trevebitch_.

Cailan had probably gotten into his phone at some point, again, seeing as Loghain’s name had been changed to _GrumpyMasterFather mac Tir. _

Alexander tried to make a mental note to check all of his other contacts later before he scrolled through to Fergus’s name. He was glad to see that Cailan hadn’t gotten around to changing his name on Alexander’s phone and he hit the contact details. For a moment he was tempted to called Fergus outright to talk to him but then he didn’t really want Reau to hear whatever the conversation might evolve into. That and there was a good chance that Fergus might already be asleep. It was busy in Highever this time of year and his brother probably had a multitude of expectations and events on his plate. That was one thing that Alexander did not miss. Instead, he hit the message button, because if Fergus was asleep at least Alexander would have a reply by the time he woke up in the morning.

_19:28 Pup; Hey, you have Laffy’s number? Emergency!!_

Alexander set his phone on the counter before he pulled the chocolate powder mix down from the cupboard above the machine. Then he grabbed the unopened bag of marshmallows and tore the packaging open with his teeth, hearing his mothers scolding in his mind as he did so. When he walked over to the fridge, he heard his phone charm and vibrate against the stone counter, then it charmed and vibrated again. Alexander pulled the milk out and shut the fridge with his foot, hurrying back over. Fergus’s name was on his lock screen, with _two unread messages _underneath it. Alexander looked over his shoulder to see if Reau had come in yet, before putting the milk down and picking up his phone.

_ 19:_ _29 Brothership; **Contact; L. Trevelyan**_

_ 19:29 Brothership; What’s up_

“What’s up? Oh, just a very upset teenager on my doorstep I haven’t seen in nearly half a decade,” Alexander muttered underneath his breath as poured the milk into the silver jug, making sure there was enough for two. Then he pulled two mugs down from the same cupboard he kept the chocolate in, putting them on the counter before replying.

_19:29 Pup; Need to message him_

_19:29 Pup; Did you give him my address?_

_19:29 Pup; Beauregard’s here_

_19:29 Pup; He was sitting on my doorstep_

Alexander was about to spoon the chocolate into the mugs when Reau cleared his throat. Alexander looked over his shoulder, seeing that Reau was standing awkwardly near the entrance of the kitchen. He’d taken his boots and hoodie off, though he’d tied the latter around his waist. He wasn’t as tall as Gideon or as broad as Lafayette, falling somewhere in the middle of the two. It made Alexander feel a pang of guilt for not having seen Gideon in a long time.

“You know how to make hot chocolate with one of these?” Alexander asked, motioning towards the machine. Reau shook his head just as Alexander’s phone chimed four times in quick succession. Alexander ignored it for the moment, Fergus could wait for him, before nodding Reau over. The kid looked out of place, with his dark, aesthetically grungy clothing in what looked like a meticulous house. Not that Alexander didn’t feel out of place in his house. “Spoon some powder into the cups, then add a bit of hot water and mix it into a runny paste. I’ll show you how to heat up the milk after I reply to Fergus.”

“How’s your brother doing?” Reau asked quietly, almost shyly. Alexander paused when he opened his phone, trying to think of the nicest, honest answer he could think of. There wasn’t a lot of them that were both nice and honest.

“He’s doing the best you could be, I guess,” Alexander said with a shrug. Reau just nodded, looking regretful of asking in the first place. Alexander let him focus on his small task.

_19:30 Brothership; He called three days ago_

_19:30 Brothership; Thought it was for him_

_19:30 Brothership; Ophilia’s been asking around for Beauregard_

_19:30 Brothership; Is he okay?_

Alexander looked to Reau, with his still puffy red eyes, sore looking lip and a rather blank expression. The way he’d told Alexander that he couldn’t go to Gideon. He wanted to know what in the Maker’s name had happened but had a feeling that if he tried to push Reau too much he might lash out. Besides, Reau might just need a few days away from his family to figure stuff out. Sometimes distance brings everything into clarity.

_19:31 Pup; Okay’s relative_

_19:31 Pup; Don’t tell her_

_19:31 Pup; Or Gideon_

_19:31 Brothership; Not a word_

Alexander let out a breath of relief before sliding his phone back into his pocket. If there was one thing he loved about his brother, it was just how Fergus just seemed to _get_ everything. Then again he’d been dealing with Alexander for nearly twenty-five years, so a moody teenager not wanting to see his family was probably more like déjà vu for Fergus than something to worry about. And at least Reau had let at least Lafayette know where he was going instead of disappearing completely and turning up two months later drunk off his face in Antiva.

Reau finished mixing the chocolate and the water, then looked to Alexander expectantly. Alexander picked up the silver jug of milk, before placing it near the steamer.

“Okay, so you’re going to want to just run that quickly, just so there’s no extra water in the spout. Then you quickly start heating the milk, you don’t want the spout too low because otherwise you just heat up the bottom of the jug and you’ll think the milk is hotter than it is, and too high and you’ll end up burning the milk on top,” Alexander explained as he moved the jug up and down. Reau nodded slowly, probably not interested in actually learning it but at least they were talking about something that wasn’t a heavy subject. That and this was giving Alexander a good practice for how he was going to go about training someone who hadn’t ever come up against one of these machines before as well. “If you hold it just a little way under the milk like this, and on the angle, it will turn the milk around and heat it evenly. Here, give it a go. Tap the bottom of the jug to feel how hot the milk is becoming but don’t hold your hand there.”

“Is this how you do it in your shop?”

“Mostly. We have thermometers,” Alexander said. Reau nodded slowly, his eyebrows pulling together as he concentrated. Alexander took a moment to open his phone again, going back into his conversation with Fergus and saving Lafayette’s number into his contacts. He glanced at Reau, who still looked very serious about heating the milk, and he quickly opened up the messages.

_19:35 A. Cousland; Hey Laf, Alexander_

_19:35 A. Cousland; Call me ASAP_

“Okay, it’s done,” Reau said as he reached up and turned the spout off. Alexander shoved his phone back into his pocket and watched as Reau carefully poured the hot milk straight into the mugs. It wasn’t at the right angle for froth or getting a nice pattern, and Alexander made a mental note to make sure he tells Theus that tomorrow. He leant over to the sink and wet a cloth, before cleaning the spout off and turning it on, making sure the leftover milk was cleared. Reau started mixing the milk into the chocolate mixture, looking quite pleased with himself.

“Look at you go, kid, I’ll make a barista of you yet,” Alexander said as he smacked him between his shoulder blades lightly. Reau cracked the slightest hint of a genuine smile before he nudged one of the mugs over to Alexander. He took a sip. The milk was a bit colder than it should be but it wasn’t bad for a first try. He drank a heftier mouthful, before wiping at his mouth with his sleeve. “You know, we are going to have to talk about why you’re here.”

“I ran away.”

“Figured that much. A reason for it?”

“I can’t live with mum anymore,” Reau shrugged. Alexander nodded slowly. Reau turned and leant against the counter, looking out through the windows over the lounge into the backyard. He tapped his fingers absently against the mug, which gave Alexander time to take another sip of the chocolate and try to think of a way to navigate this conversation. He was thankful that he didn’t need to think too much, because Reau sucked in a deep breath and looked to him, directly in the eye for the first time in the night. “I’m not the son she wants. I can’t keep pretending I am. It’s her own problem. I wanted to live with Laffy.”

“From what I’ve heard, Kirkwall isn’t the best place to be right now.”

“I don’t think Kirkwall’s been the best place to be for a while. Laffy won’t let me stay with him, probably because he lives in the Gallows,” Reau said with a defeated shrug. Alexander almost spat his drink out. From what he’d heard about Kirkwall, there was a lot of civil problems that the Viscount was having trouble keeping from becoming an all-out civil war. The heavy Templar presence and the constant, swirling rumours of mage mistreatment within the Gallows seemed to be the main stoke of the public ire, as well as the constant slip between the different classes within the walls.

Alexander had visited Kirkwall once when he was a teenager and he had never wanted to go back again in his life.

“So, you came to Denerim. Decent enough trip from Ostwick. What’s your plan from here?”

“I hadn’t really thought of that,” Reau said as he scratched his neck. He looked a little sheepish as he sipped at his chocolate, mulling over his options. At least Alexander hoped he was thinking about what he might be able to do in the future because he sure as hell couldn’t stay with Alexander indefinitely. A few days would be fine, but no more than that. “Kind of just focused on getting here.”

“What about school? Money? Where you’re going to live? That’s stuff you need to figure out,” Alexander said. Reau nodded slowly, his eyes glazing over slightly as he just succeeded in stifling a yawn. Alexander took a deep breath then clicked his tongue, nodding back towards the hallway. “You can take that into your room if you need some sleep. We can figure that out in the morning.”

“Thanks. I know this probably puts you out a bit and all,” Reau said, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. He let out a huff of breath then looked to Alexander, managing what looked like to be a really tight smile. “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s fine,” Alexander said, even though what he really wanted to say was yes, this has put him out quite well and he has no idea what Lafayette was thinking. Or at least Lafayette could have called and let him know. As he watched as Reau slowly shuffled back up the hallway, the exhaustion of the day seeming to pull on his shoulders and weigh down on him, Alexander swore to himself that he would find him somewhere to stay and that Reau would be out of the house by the end of the week.


	3. Mabari and Mysteries

Theus ran a hand through his hair, wincing slightly when he caught a knot. He hadn’t meant to stay out all day after leaving HighEver After, but he’d wandered far enough to find a lovely park by surprise. There was a pond that served as residence for a family of ducks, and a large patch of healthy grass and with a large collection of trees. He’d just sat for a long while, enjoying the smell of the earth and feeling the most at home he had since he’d arrived into Denerim.

The sound of the city was so different to that of the Brecilian. So much louder and busier and brighter. The sounds of the cars and trains that would just whizz past constantly, the people speaking loudly while saying nothing at all, just the constant thrum of life through the Quarter made his skin crawl. Mostly because there was a small part of him that found the change completely_ fascinating_ now the initial shock had worn off. Now he had seen how the world just _lived_ here, it was so different than anything he had experienced before. 

It wasn’t until the sun had begun to set had Theus realised how long he had stayed. The walk from the park was taking him longer than he thought it might have, and he was did find himself turned around and a little more lost than he would ever admit if Tamlen had been with them. The walk itself was quite nice. The Quarter was quieter in the night. There was still people walking around but much like Theus, most seemed more concerned with where they were going than whatever was happening around them.

Theus paused for a moment outside of _that_ bookstore. There was a rusty gate covering the door, thick black curtains covering the windows from within. Something about it seemed so horrendously, overwhelmingly uninviting, a dangerous energy crackling through the air that emanated from deep within. Theus scratched behind his ear, being careful to avoid that still aching piercing, before he continued on.

His phone hadn’t stopped buzzing with intermittent messages all day. Something had stayed his hand from checking whatever people were sending him. He was no doubt going to receive an earful from Tamlen for not responding to him quickly enough, and Ashalle would very upset with him not giving her an update as well, but it really was that Theus just didn’t want to talk to anyone at the moment.

Part of him still wanted to leave this stupid desire behind and go meet Sabrae in Kirkwall. 

At night, Rosin complex didn’t look as intimidating as it had during the day. The dark stone of the building faded nicely into the darkness of the night, the air around the building feeling quieter and less rigid. Or maybe it was Theus himself who felt quieter and less rigid? Either way, he felt far more relaxed in the feeling of it, and he pulled out the key he’d been clutching so tightly earlier that day.

Theus punched the number that had been hastily scrawled on the keys tag into the complex’s keypad, hearing a small whirl as the door unlocked to let him inside. He let out a sigh as he stepped inside, taking in a deep breath of that stale air in the foyer and tried to breathe out that pressing feeling closing in around him again.

He had been well aware that it would be a hard change to adjust to. Theus just hoped this horrible feeling would be over sooner rather than later. He ran a hand through his hair as he walked up the stairs, making a note of which ones let out a grown underneath his weight and which ones were quiet. His stomach began to ache as he drew closer to the door of the apartment, his nerves feeling like they were slowly being set alight. What was this officer of a roommate going to be like? Theus swallowed thickly as he arrived at the doorway, squeezing the teeth of the key against his fingers.

Then he let loose a breath and slide the key into the lock and gave it a sharp twist before walking inside.

The scene inside the apartment had changed drastically since he had left earlier that day. It wasn’t the smell of food that wafter through the air, something meaty and thick and sharp, or that the place seemed brighter by the night with the harsh white lights that seemed almost _clinical_. It wasn’t the shemlen that was sitting in the middle of that small lounge area, who was so preoccupied with what he was doing he didn’t even notice Theus had come inside.

It was the squirming and yapping little bundles of fur that were running amok.

Theus shut the door quickly, not sure how many puppies were inside the apartment and not willing to let any of them out. There was now some water and food bowls near the wall of the kitchen, various brightly coloured toys scattered around, and newspaper covering every conceivable space on the flood. Theus couldn’t remember what the floor looked like before and he was certain it would take him a few layers to be able to check if he was so inclined.

The shemlen on the ground looked up when the door had latched closed. His dark, sandy blonde hair was cut short on the sides but stayed longer on the stop, his skin was light brown with a splatter of freckles over his nose and cheeks, his eyes a light hazel. He blinked once to Theus then stood quickly, a pup carefully being cuddled close to his chest.

“I, ah, sorry about all this. You must be Theus, Lira told me you arrived today. Funny, I thought it was tomorrow. Would have been here to meet you otherwise,” the man chattered quickly as he uneasily navigated carefully placed steps towards Theus. The puppies that had remained on the ground seemed incredibly happy trying to nip at his ankles and jump up at his calves, seemingly attempting to trip him up as they could just on him again. “I’m Alistair, and no, normally there is not all these puppies but we found them while on a job today and I couldn’t let them just go to a shelter now could I? No I couldn’t, no I could _not_.”

Theus was acutely aware that the baby talk at the end of the conversation was because Alistair had quite easily shifted from talking to him to talking to the puppy he was cuddling. The pup just let out a yawn in response and snuggled into his chest. Theus just nodded slowly. He couldn’t really blame Alistair for making that decision. He would have taken them all home too.

“It is nice to meet you,” said Theus, though the words felt very forced. Probably sounded quite forced as well. Alistair either didn’t notice or didn’t care, probably because the puppy had now taken to gently and lazily licking at his chin and neck. A

“I _am_ going to rehome them though, so don’t worry if you don’t like dogs, they won’t be here for too long. Lira already told me _I_ couldn’t keep any of them considering I work so much and it won’t be fair on the pup. Not like I can take them on the job with me either,” said Alistair, who Theus was very certain definitely shared Lira’s ability to talk without needing a breath between words.

“I like dogs,” said Theus, feeling as though he had to make a contribution to this conversation. It was the right decision. Alistair’s face brightened up immensely and he grinned happily to Theus.

“Oh, thank the _Maker_. I bought them home and then Lira told me you were already here and I was so worried I was going to send you crazy on already because of them. Didn’t want you to be uncomfortable on your first day in Denerim, I mean if must be a big enough change from the Brecilian without the added stress of half a litter of puppies running around. They’re Mabari pups though, very loyal dogs, used to be a war breed way back when. No need for that now though, the war bit I mean. Not he loyal bit,” chattered Alistair before he paused, looking down to Theus’s legs, “oh look. That one likes you.”

Theus looked down. Whilst most of the pups were happy still attacking Alistair’s legs in a rather playful fashion, one pup had found itself sniffing at Theus’s boots. It’s fur was dark brown, a healthy sheen to its coat, with one ear that was standing up quite straight and the other flopping to the side. When it apparently had done a well enough task of sniffing him, the pup looked straight up to him and let out some friendly, yet forceful, yips to Theus. Now he could see the pup had a spot of white fur over its left eye. Its bottom was wiggling ferociously and Theus hazard a guess that if the little thing had more of a tail, then that tail would be nothing more than a blur.

Without hesitation Theus reached down and picked the little dog. It was roughly the size of his forearm and was heavier than he thought it was going to be. He held it out in front of him so he could get a better look at the little wriggling furball. It was a little boy. The pup let out a small whine and wriggled around in his grip before letting out some more happy barks, kicking his hind legs in Theus’s direction. Theus pulled the pup in closer for a cuddle, mimicking the way that Alistair was holding his own. The pup wriggled and pressed against Theus’s chest with his front paws, stretching barking once more before ferociously licking at Theus’s face and neck.

“He is very cute,” said Theus. He scratched behind the pup’s ear, getting a small, happy whine in response. The pup reminded him of when Maren’s dog had a litter of puppies and he and Tamlen had been tasked with looking after them. Though looking back, it was probably just to make sure they stayed out of trouble for a week or so. Theus carefully put the puppy back onto the ground. He would be sad to see them go, it was nice having animals around. “I need to unpack. It was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, oh, uh-huh,” said Alistair, who was still looking at the pup Theus had been holding. His face was pinched in a way that looked like he was midway between confusion and concern. Theus just gave him a short nod before walking to his room, flicking on the light, and shutting the door behind him.

Theus decided he was going to change the lightbulb because that harsh white light was going to end up giving him a headache. He moved towards the bed and untied his pack, which he was glad to see had remained exactly how he had left when he’d thrown it in earlier. He pulled out his carefully folded clothes, courtesy of Tamlen and Merrill, and moved to put them into the drawers. He paused, then pulled out a pair of black jeans and a black shirt, setting them on top of the dresser in preparation for the morning. Underneath the clothes was a carefully wrapped bundle that Theus definitely had not seen before.

He untied the string and pulled back the plain cloth to see that someone had taken the time to wrap up a small stack of photos for him. Theus grinned at the first one. He was in the centre of the photo, head tilted back and victoriously drinking directly from a rather strong bottle of wine, giving the camera his middle finger. Tamlen was by his side, half kneeling beside Theus like he was some kind of royalty, his face twisted into an expression of surprise and adoration at Theus’s act. Merrill was in the direct forefront of the picture, or at least half of her face was. He could see her cheery grin as it looked like she was giving their antics the side eye. In the background, just in the shot, emerging from the darkness like a wolf about to pounce, Ashalle could be seen stomping towards them with an expression that would make a thunderstorm falter.

They had been barely been sixteen that night, barefaced and brazen. Theus couldn’t remember if it had been his or Tamlen’s idea to sneak some of the really strong stuff from Ashalle’s collection whilst she was with Maren. They had managed to clear the whole bottle of wine before Ashalle found them, properly berated them, before she sent them off to bed after forcing them all to drink a large glass of water.

After the way the three of them felt in the morning, they all swore they would never touch another bottle for a long, _long_ time. Theus was half convinced Merrill still refused to go near that particular wine, whilst him and Tamlen still share a couple of glasses here and there.

The next photo was of him and Ashalle, the day before he received his Vallaslin. Ashalle was sitting in her favourite chair, her darky, softly greying hair was pulled into a high bun on the back of her head. She was straight backed and looking directly to the camera, her lips pressed into a thin line, looking quite serious about the whole affair. Theus had apparently not received the memo and was leaning over her from behind the chair, sticking his tongue out to the camera and winking.

He went to look at the next picture when he heard a slight scratching at the door. His mind immediately went to the possibility of a mouse, or worse a rat, before he heard a small whine. The scratching became more insistent and the whine turned into a rather impatient bark. Theus walked over and opened the door, seeing the pup from earlier sitting in front of it. Almost immediately his ears perked up and he scrambled to his feet, happily trotting into the room so he could begin his ministrations of investigating what was inside.

“I think, ah, that one’s chosen you,” said Alistair. Theus half leant out of his room to see that Alistair was now lying on the floor. The puppies were jumping all over him, all happily yipping about the whole affair. Theus wasn’t really sure who was enjoying themselves more at this instance, Alistair or the Mabari. 

“Chose me?” asked Theus as he looked back to the pup in his room. He was standing on his hind legs, front paws pressed against the side of his bed, stretching as high as he could manage. He was sniffing in the direction of where his pack was lying. Theus did admit, the pup looked very comfortable being in his room.

“Yeah, it’s something Mabari do. It’s called ‘imprinting’ and once they’ve done it, well, there’s not much that’s going to stop that little guy from coming back to you,” said Alistair. Theus frowned, looking back to Alistair.

“I thought you said they must go?”

“Well, yeah,” said Alistair as he moved to sit up. “This places isn’t big enough for half a litter of pups. The imprinting is also why they need to go _quickly_. Otherwise we’ll end up with all of them -oof.” One rather adventurous pup leapt directly at Alistair’s face, hitting him unexpectedly and sending Alistair backwards. This caused a great degree of joy for the pups, who began to scramble up his shirt and attack his face with kisses. Alistair took a moment to fight the dogs away from his mouth, before looking back to Theus. “As I was saying, if they all imprint before I can find them good homes, then we’re going to be in a bit of trouble. I mean, Mabari are pretty well desired so it’s going to be easy to find a home. I just didn’t expect one to imprint so soon.”

Theus looked back to the pup, who was now trying unsuccessfully to climb up the side of his bed. He seemed to sense Theus was looking at him again, and looked over his shoulder rather cheerfully. His bottom also started wiggling ferociously again. Theus knelt and let out a short whistle, extended his hands towards the pup, who half fell away from the side of the bed before bounding over. He ignored Theus’s outstretched hands and jumped towards his chest with surprising amount of force behind him. Theus only just managed to catch him before he crashed back to the ground, cradling him carefully.

“I do know anything about Mabari,” said Theus as he scratched the little one behind the ear. Well, he knew one thing about _this_ Mabari, and that it liked to be scratched there.

“Lucky for you I know enough, and I know enough people who know even more than I do,” said Alistair. Theus nodded again, ticking the pup beneath his chin. The pup let out a happy whine before yawning quite wide, licking its lips, and blinking to Theus slowly. There were worse things, Theus supposed, than the forced responsibility of a dog. Especially when the dog was just _so cute_.

“If I keep him, will it cost me more to live here?” Alistair let out a laugh, which was quickly silenced when one of the puppies decided to lick his tongue. He spluttered, before shaking his head.

“No way! I totally would keep one myself, but I’m not home enough. It would be great to have the little guy around. And I know Lira would like him around, even if she grumbles about the smell.”

“Does he have a name?”

“No, not yet. Leaving that up to their new owners. So, you know, go ahead,” said Alsitair. Theus nodded again, before stepping back into his room and shutting the door. He pulled the pup away so he could look at him properly. The pup stared back at him, before he wriggled and tried to get back closer to Theus. The responsibility of naming something, no matter what it was, was quite a big one. Theus didn’t want to get it wrong.

The thought to ask Alistair what a typical name for a Mabari was did cross his mind, but he realised that would make this little guy a very _shem_ Mabari. Theus sat down on the floor, putting the pup on the ground, and watched. The pup was very happy to run around and continue its investigations of the room. It wasn’t long before the pup was once again drawn back to the pack that was sitting on Theus’s bed, this time he went as far as to look back to Theus and bark at him.

“There is something you want. What do you smell?” asked Theus as he crawled to the edge of the bed and pulled his pack down. As he did, he realised exactly what the pup was after.

Theus pulled the rug that Merrill had given him out and let it drop to the floor in a heap. The pup immediately began sniffing the wool, before turning around a few times before settling in comfortably into the folds.

“You’ve never smelt halla before, have you boy?” Theus leant over gently ran the back of his fingers over the pups fur. The pup let out a little huff in response, before snuggling in closer. He didn’t close his eyes though, just laid there snug and warm, watching Theus expectantly.

The scene reminded him of when he and Tamlen had stumbled across a wolves den when they were definitely not meant to be out one night. They hadn’t gone close, because they didn’t want to cause any trouble, but they’d stayed where they were and watched as the wolf pups played. After a while they all became tired, and snuggled against each other just like the pup was doing now with the blanket. Theus cocked his head to the side.

“Fen,” said Theus. The pups ears perked up and he raised his head from the rug. His head tilted to the side as he looked at Theus, so Theus repeated, “Fen.” This time he was rewarded with a happy bark, and another little butt wiggle. Theus scratched behind the pups ear again, before pulling his phone out of his pocket. He snapped a picture of Fen lying snug in in the rug, and made the choice to face whatever onslaught of texts he had received that day. But he would start gentle.

He opened Tamlen’s text chain, seeing that the most recent was from twenty minutes ago.

_09:43 Tamlen; How’s the train ride going?_

_10:02 Tamlen; We’ve reached Lake Calenhad, Tower looks creepy_

_10:34 Tamlen; Junar and Fenarel found your knife and now they’re fighting over it_

_ 10:39 Tamlen; Fenarel won _

_ 10:42 Tamlen; Merrill decided she wanted to the knife so now she has it_

_ 10:42 Tamlen; Also Fenarel has no eyebrows because he tried to say no_

_ 11:03 Tamlen; We’re all in trouble with Maretheri because of your knife_

_ 11:10 Tamlen; He’s gone and still giving me a headache – Marethari on you_

_ 12:09 Tamlen; Your train should have arrived in Denerim ten minutes ago and you haven’t replied_

_ 12:10 Tamlen; Now you’re giving me a headache_

_ 12:59 Tamlen; I’m assuming you’re dead now and I get all the stuff you left behind_

_ 12:59 Tamlen; Except that knife because now it belongs to Merrill and I like my eyebrows_

_ 14:03 Tamlen; We’re placing bets on how long before you get arrested_

_ 14:03 Tamlen; I said a week_

_ 14:03 Tamlen; Fenarel said a month_

_ 14:03 Tamlen; Merrill said you won’t_

_ 14:03 Tamlen; Marethari said midnight_

_ 14:04 Tamlen; And Ashalle said you better not_

_ 16:48 Tamlen; Remember when I got annoyed at you that one time and wouldn’t speak to you all day_

_ 16:48 Tamlen; This feels a lot like that but now it’s me being ignored and I don’t like it_

_ 18:09 Tamlen; Merrill just told me you’re ignoring her too_

_ 18:09 Tamlen; So now we’re sulking together_

_ 18:57 Tamlen; Don’t know what the stars look like in Denerim but they’re beautiful by the lake_

_20:53 Tamlen: I’m hoping you’re safe. Hope the place looks nice. _

_20:54 Tamlen: Call you tomorrow sometime?_

Theus bit his lip, feeling incredibly guilty about having ignored everyone. He was also absolutely way too scared to see whatever messages Ashalle might have sent him now. Instead he sent the picture to Tamlen.

_21:14 Theus: Trian ride was fine. Room is nice. Have a trial shift tomorrow for a job. Have not been arrested yet. One roommate is a cop. Do not know about the other. I now have a dog I called Fen._

Theus put his phone on the floor and reached into his bag, pulling out the dagger that Tamlen had given him. He turned it around in his hands, marvelling at the fine craftsmanship, the intricate detail of the patterning of the pommel. Tamlen had been very excited the day he’d managed to save up enough to buy it from Ilen. Theus never thought he would see the day that Tamlen would willingly part with it, and he hugged it close to his chest for a moment. Fen was looking at him curiously, and after a moment Theus reached out, showing Fen that dagger up close.

“This knife belonged to my friend Tamlen. It is very special.” Fen sniffed at the leather scabbard before looking up Theus, letting out a whine. Theus was inclined to agree with his sentiment.

His phone vibrated on the carpet of his room and Theus looked down, glad that Tamlen hadn’t called him in response. He flicked open the reply.

_21:18 Tamlen: You know most people would spread all that responsibility over the course of like a month also how did you get a dog?_

_21:19 Tamlen: Merrill says she’s glad you’ve grown and didn’t name him Doggy something about a rock? Says you know_

Theus let out a groan. Merrill had once given him a rock with eyes drawn on it and told him that it was his pet and that he was responsible for it and it needed a name. Theus, with all his genius, immediately responded that it’s name should be Rocky and he has never, to this day, ever lived that down with her. Theus’s phone vibrated in his hands again, and he saw he had another message from Tamlen.

_21:21 Tamlen: We’re glad you’ve at least made a friend_

Theus considered for a moment mentioning the book store, and the strange woman who worked there, but Fen let out a little whine, and Theus decided that could wait.

…

Sapphir tapped her pen absentmindedly against the tabletop, staring at the words on her laptop for the fiftieth time in the last hour. The words were beginning to blur into each other, the sentences stringing along into one large, incomprehensible mess, and everything she really wanted to say could be summed up in three sentences if only she could write that little. She wanted to cry, she wanted to shout, she wanted to grab her laptop by the screen and hurl it across the room and never read anything ever again in her whole entire life.

The blinking cursor was insulting her and it was infuriating.

With a reluctant groan she lowered her head, gently tapping her forehead against the wood. She needed another five hundred words, another five hundred words and she could be finished and send it off. She’d written then cut then written some more, then read what she’d written and dragged her hands over her face because it seemed like she was spouting nonsense, then cut away some more because she’d felt like she’d been rambling, and now nothing made sense anymore. All that came to her mind was her earlier conversation with Cailan, and his request for her to be his knife in the fight against Vaughan. She took in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, before releasing it again.

“Well, you look like you’re having fun there.” Sapphir raised her head from the table, blinking slowly. Shianni was standing in the doorway to her bedroom, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest. Her short, copper hair was pinned back from her face, large silver hoops etched with diamonds were hanging from her ears, and she was wearing a shimmering deep blue dress (that Sapphir was convinced was actually hers) that hugged kindly at her curves. In one hand she was holding a pair of silver heels that were more strap than shoe. Sapphir narrowed her eyes, because they were _definitely_ hers.

Then she looked down to her sweatpants and her oversized sweatshirt, which to her realisation wasn’t actually hers, and she decided that the shoes and dress weren’t worth whatever smart ass comment Shianni would have in response.

“Words don’t have meaning anymore,” whined Sapphir instead. Her cousin let out a small laugh as she walked over to Sapphir, patting her shoulder when she was within reach. Sapphir leant into the comfort, half wishing that Shianni could pat her laptop and make everything work.

“We’re going to Faustians. You could always come with us and get your mind off this.”

“I don’t think a night of drinking until I forget my own name is going to help with this,” said Sapphir glumly as she jerked her hand towards the laptop. She rubbed her eyes, then blinked up to Shianni who was now leaning forward and reading the words with an open mouth. Her expression was otherwise unreadable. That made Sapphir more anxious than anything else, so she reached forward and pulled her laptop shut. She had enough doubts about the paper already, she didn’t need Shianni giving her anymore, even unintentionally. “Maybe a break would be good for me. Not Faustians though, I’m opening tomorrow.” 

“Can’t you ask Alexander if you can come in later?”

“No,” muttered Sapphir, “he’s hired some _pretty boy_ to come work for us and I’m training him.”

“Tell you that, did he?”

“No, Inah. I sent him a few texts but he hasn’t replied. Don’t think he’s opened them actually,” said Sapphir. She reached for her phone and pulled open the messages. Sure enough, Alexander had left her messages on unread. Doesn’t mean they had gone unseen though. She wasn’t overly surprised though, considering it sounded like Inah and Lace had given him the third degree over the decision plenty already today. “Besides, he’s been pretty understanding about everything and I’ve already had to miss three shifts this week he was happy to cover at the last minute for me.’

“Fine, but you’re coming out with me and Soris soon,” said Shianni as she pulled the chair beside Sapphir out from under the table. She pulled the shoes on, her nimble fingers making short work of the straps. Sapphir tried to remember the last time she’d taken those shoes out for a dance, then tried to remember the last time she had taken _herself_ out for a dance, and had a sudden desire to go out regardless. “You’ve been cooped up in here for too long.”

“Sorry I’m trying to make the world a better place,” said Sapphir, but it didn’t manage the bite she was hoping it would have. Shianni just laughed at her, messing up Sapphir’s already messy bun before she pulled on the other shoe. The telltale, cheery chime of Shianni’s phone caught her cousin’s attention and Shianni immediately checked her phone. Her eyebrows pulled together slightly, then she looked up to Sapphir with a wicked grin.

“Isabela’s in town and she’s coming out tonight.”

“Don’t tell me that,” said Sapphir, who was now beginning to feel quite sorry for herself. If there was one person you could rely on for having an outrageously and roaringly good time on a night out, that person was Isabela. The only bad part about it was she came and went as often as the winds changed, so it was important to catch her when she had arrived.

“I’ll tell her you said hello,” said Shianni. She stood and fixed the hem of her dress, before leaning down and giving Sapphir a kiss on her temple. Sapphir waved her off, wanting Shianni out so she could sulk in her own peace and quiet. Shianni walked towards the front door, grabbing a small, bejewelled bag from the set of hooks before she looked over to Sapphir again. “If you want, I can wait ten minutes for you to get ready.”

“Get out of here before I throw you out of that door,” said Sapphir. Shianni saluted her before pulling the door open, disappearing out of sight as it clicked shut behind her. Sapphir let out a sigh, pulling on her bun absentmindedly before she looked back to her phone. She should head to bed soon, but her mind was still working a million miles a minute and if she went to bed right now, she’d be up all night thinking.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she opened the chat she had with Inah and Lace. They usually used it to make fun of Alexander and his oh so subtle ways of gaining more tips from their customers. It was all the funnier when it worked a little _too_ well, and Alexander found himself constantly in hot water when women would ask him for his number.

_13:12 Horns; AC hired a hot guy without looking at a resume_

_13:12 Horns; He’s coming in tomorrow morning_

_13:17 Short Stop; Lol seriously?_

_13:17 Short Stop; How hot are we talking?_

_13:21 Horns; I think AC forgot his own name_

_13:21 Horns; He definitely forgot the menu_

_13:29 Boss#2; Tell me he’s not going to get me on training_

_13:53 Horns; Oh yah definitely you_

_13:54 Horns; He seemed nice though_

_13:54 Horns; Quiet with a sweet tooth_

_13:55 Horns; Theus something_

_14:14 Short Stop; Asked him about it he just got shitty_

_14:33 Boss#2; You been bugging him?_

_14:59 Short Stop; Obviously_

_15:01 Boss#2; Good_

_18:08 Short Stop; Finished up, there’s a stain on the counter we can’t get out_

_18:43 Horns; I’ll give it a try on Tuesday_

_18:47 Short Stop; Nice_

_18:47 Short Stop; AC was staring at the roster when I was leaving_

Sapphir let out a huff through her nose. She wasn’t exactly pleased that Alexander hired someone without even looking at a resume, but then again in two weeks this new guy wouldn’t be her problem at all. Hopefully his niceness would be enough to get by on, and she wouldn’t spend the rest of the two week absolutely stressed that Alexander hadn’t thought with the right brain when considering the future of his business.

_21:20 Boss#2: I’m bored tv suggestions?_

Sapphir pressed her phone to black and stood, stretching her arms high above her head. Her back and shoulders cracked from the position she’d been sitting in for a decent amount of the night, and she rolled her shoulders back. She was feeling a little hungry, now that her attention had been diverted from her work, and she was definitely feeling something spices and positively Antivan. Or at least, something that pretended it was Antivan for the Ferelden palate.

She walked over to the fridge, pulling the menu for _Jewel_ out from under the magnet. She didn’t really know why. She knew the number off by heart by now and always ordered the exact same thing, after taking ten minutes to look over the menu, which she also knew pretty well off by heart. She tugged on her bun again before she heard her phone vibrate across the table. She wandered back over, expecting a reply from either Inah or Lace, instead surprised to find a string of messages from Alistair instead.

She opened her phone quickly, curious to know what might have happened to illicit the continuous stream of texts.

_21:20 NotTheKing; You would NOT believe what happened today_

_ 21:20 NotTheKing: Went on a bust with Rainier_

_ 21:20 NotTheKing: Guess who now has six Mabari pups to look after?_

Sapphir snorted, trying to picture how exactly Alistair was going to look after six puppies. His apartment wasn’t exactly the largest place in the world, not to mention he was going to be getting another roommate arriving tomorrow. She just hoped the guy wasn’t averse to animals, or Mabari’s for the matter. She could just imagine her first thoughts if she moved into a place and suddenly it looked like a makeshift puppy farm.

_21:21 Knives: I assume you volunteered for the role of surrogate mother?_

Before she could even put her phone down it vibrated with his reply.

_21:21 NotTheKing: Had to fight Rainier for some_

_ 21:21 NotTheKing: He got eight_

_ 21:22 Knives: You know you have to give them up though right?_

_ 21:22 Knives: You’re apartment isn’t exactly puppy friendly_

_ 21:22 NotTheKing: Yeah I know_

_ 21:23 NotTheKing: I asked Alexander if he wanted one but haven’t heard back_

_ 21:23 NotTheKing: You want one?_

Sapphir let out a laugh at his suggestion. She had enough stuff going on right now without the added stress of having to raise a puppy, let alone a puppy that would be smart enough to figure out how to open doors given enough time. She was surprised to find out Alexander hadn’t responded to the offer of taking in a Mabari.

_21:24 Knives: Thanks but no, I’ll ask Cailan_

_ 21:25 Knives: You excited for your new friend arriving tomorrow?_

_ 21:25 NotTheKing: Funnily, he arrived today actually_

_ 21:25 NotTheKing: One of the pups even imprinted on him_

_ 21:26 NotTheKing: So actually we are going to be keeping one_

_ 21:26 NotTheKing: He seems nice, quiet but straight forward_

_ 21:26 Knives: Sounds like the perfect roommate, what’s his name?_

After a minute passed and Alistair didn’t reply, Sapphir figured he was preoccupied with his new charges, and ordered herself an eggplant dish from _Jewels_ before flinging her phone onto the couch. She was about ready to settle in for a quick shower when she heard shouting from outside. Instinctively she went to the window, looking down to the street.

It wasn’t Vaughan, but it was definitely two of his idiot friends that usually could be found hanging off his arm. This time, evidently, they had decided to come to the Alienage with a few of their own friends. They were standing near the door of Alarith’s shop, about four of them from what Sapphir could see, and they surrounded one person. Sapphir didn’t need to be able to see the person clearly to just _know _it was an Elf. It was only a matter of time before things would really turn violent.

Sapphir ran to the couch to grab her phone and was about to call the number Alistair had given her that was a direct line his precincts captain for such an occasion, then the air seemed to shift. For a moment, just a moment, it felt like the very air itself had weight to it, and breathing in felt like a such a task because of this weight. Sapphir had never felt anything like it before, and as quickly as that feeling came it left again, only to replaced by a sharpness that felt like it was cutting the her throat and lungs. She half turned back towards the window, only to hear what sounded like a strong she’d only heard once, when there had been a rain so torrential and a storm so fierce she thought the whole building was going to collapse.

The sky outside lit up a bright orange, her windows cracking underneath the pressure and shattering almost immediately. Sapphir was flung back and hit the ground hard, the wind her lungs forced out of her unwilling and leaving her struggling to get it back, her ears wringing like crazy. Sapphir struggled to sit up, and when she managed to get her breathing back, she stared at her windows, not quite sure what had just happened. As the ringing in her ears subsided, she heard the sound of receding screams from outside. 

Sapphir clutched her phone tighter in her hand, terrified as she walked towards her door. She pulled on a pair of runners before she rushed down the stairs. Her mind was racing for the multitude of possibilities of what might have just happened, but she refused to entertain any of them. When she finally burst out from the doors to the complex, Sapphir was surprised at what she saw. There was very little debris, except for the broken windows along the front of her apartment building, and a large black stain along the stones. Vaughan’s friends were nearly halfway out of the Alienage by now, still screaming and seemingly scrambling over themselves trying to get away.

Sapphir gripped her phone tighter, seeing that the Elf that had been hassled was leaning up against the wall of the Alarith’s shop, arms crossed over their chest as they watched the group of would be assailants run off. From here it looked like their hands were glowing slightly, but when Sapphir blinked their hands looked normal again. Sapphir chalked it up to a trick of the light, and when she stepped on a piece of broken glass, the Elf snapped their attention towards her.

He was young. It was the first thing that crossed her mind. He was young, cheeks still holding a bit of roundness from youth. His had light golden brown hair, was to his shoulders and looked like he’d just taken a knife to the mess. His clothes were dark, he was wearing a tight, long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of ratty jeans that looked two sizes too big for him. One of the soles of his was hanging off from the heel, the other looked like it had been taped up. She had never seen him around the Alienage before, and she had met many Elves that lived here because of her work with Valendrian and Cailan. He looked Sapphir up and down, grunted, then bounced of from the wall.

“You look at me any longer, and I’m going to charge you.” Sapphir blinked twice at him. It wasn’t just the fact that he snapped irritably at her, it was the tug at the edge of his words. He wasn’t from Denerim, that was for sure. Instinctively she motioned towards where the shemlens were running off to, scoffing at him.

“Sorry, thought you could use some help is all.”

“Does it look like I need help from anyone?” the Elf snapped, walking towards her. He was shorter than she was, by at least a foot, which meant that he would have been a hell of a lot shorter than Vaughan’s friends. Sapphir gave him a look up and down, because the answer to her right now was definitely yes, yes he did look like he needed help of some kind. His eyes were so dark in colour it looked like there was no colour at all, and there was a scar on his jaw that looked like it had only recently healed to that point.

“What happened here?” asked Sapphir instead, forcing her voice to be as calm as possible. Who knew what this _kid_ had effectively been through.

“Don’t know,” he shrugged, “looks like it needs a wash though.”

“I saw those shemlen harassing you, do you want to talk about it?”

“Wish I could help you, but unfortunately I wasn’t really paying attention,” he said, shoved his hands deep into his pockets and walking past Sapphir. Sapphir opened and closed her mouth again, turning to watch him as he walked away.

“Can you at least tell me your name? So I can tell the police _something_?” Sapphir demanded hotly. The Elf just looked over his shoulders, raising his eyebrows to her.

“Tell them whatever you damn well like. I’ll be long gone by the time they get here,” he said. Sapphir balled her hands into fists, ready to let out a shriek of frustration. Instead, she just dialled a number for the precinct, looking up to the side of her building again. As she heard the phone operator for the precinct answer, she tugged on her bun. She should have just gone out with Shianni. 


End file.
